Panth. He's here that can resolve you.

[Exit PANTHEUS. Enter CLEANTHES, więh a Sword in his Hand. Cleom. How darest thou come again within my

sight?
Thou art --but 'tis no matter what thou art.
I'll not consider thee so far to think
Thee worth reproach.—Away, away, Egyptian!
That's all the name that's left thee.

Clean. Such I appear indeed.
Cleom. Why then for once, that which thou seem'st,

thou art. Begone!

Clean. Oh I have been too long away!

Cleom. Too soon thou art returned, To triumph o'er my

fate. Clean. Forgive me, that I seemed

your

foe. Cleom. Forgive me, heaven, for thinking thee my.

friend.--
No more; 'tis loss of time to talk.

Clean. Indeed it is,
When hunger calls so loud for sustenance.
But whether friend or foe, 'tis food I bring.

Cleom. "Tis poison ; and my mother, and my wife,
And my poor famished boy, are eating death.
Thou would'st not have me think, that thou repent'st?

Clean. Heaven knows, I do not !

Cleom. Well said, man! Go on; and be not bashful, To own the merits of thy wickedness.

Clean. What need has innocence of a repentance?

Cleom. Shuffling again! Pr’ythee, be of a piece. A little steadiness becomes a villain.

Clean. Oh, friend !--for yet I dare to call you so; Which, if I were a villain, sure I durst not, Hear me, or kill me!

Cleom. So, by heaven, I would, For thy profaning friendship’s holy name; But, for thou see'st no justice hanging here, On this bare side, thou talk'st secure of vengeance. Clean. Then, if you hadasword, my death's resolved? Cleom. Thy conscience answers thee.

Clean. Without more evidence than bare surmise ;
At most, appearance of a crime unproved;
And, while unproved, uncertain.

Cleom. Traitor, no more! 'tis fulsome.
Clean. Take the sword. (Throws it to him.
Cleom. I thank thee; draw thy own. [Takes it up.
Clean. No; take that too.

[Draws his, and offers it. Cleom. Fool! would'st thou die without defence ?

Clean. I would not:
But you forbade me to defend myself,
Then, when you would not hear me.

Cleom. Can falsehood have a better argument,
Than force for its defence? Trust to that topic,
And bear thee like a man.

Clean. I think, I do.
Cleom. What kind of man is that, who dares not

fight? Clean. The man, who dares not when his honour

calls,
Is what you mean, but what I never was;
For honour never summons without reason.
Force is the law of brutes : the dumb creation,

1

Where words and reason want, appeal to might.
I thought a king, and, what you boast, a Spartan,
Might have known this, without the Egyptian's tel-

ling
Cleom. Come, come; thou dar’st not fight.

Cleon. By heaven, I dare !
But first my honour must be justified,
If you dare be my judge ;
For, in this crude and indigested quarrel,
If I should fall unheard, you kill your friend,
The man, who loved you best, and holds you dearest;
And should you perish in the unjust attempt,
Thesword, that slew you, should revenge your death;
For I should soon o'ertake you in the way,
To quit myself before you reached the shades,
And told your tale to Minos.
Cleom. Then I must hear; but swear, swear first,

I charge thee, That, when I have pronounced, thou wilt no more Prolong thy prattle with some new excuse : And prythee cut it short, because I faint, And long to kill thee first-Oh, I am going ! A rising vapour rumbles in my brains, I hear my words far off:-stand, stand, thou traitor, And swim not thus before me ;-'tis too late ;

[Puts the Point upon the Ground, once or

twice ; leans on it, and staggers. And I fall unrevenged.

[Offers to run at him, and is falling. Clean. What ho, Pantheus !

[Runs to him, and takes him in his arms. The best of men is dying in my arms, And I want power to save him.

Enter PANTHEUS.
Panth. O heavens! what means this direful ob-

ject?

Clean. Ask not, with unassisting pity; bow him

forward, Rub his numbed temples, while I wipe the sweat From his cold clammy face.

Panth. His mounting heart
Bounces against my hands, as if it would
Thrust off his manly soul.

Clean. Wrench ope his mouth,
While I infuse these sovereign drops, whose power
Will soon recall his wandered sense-

(He instills somewhat out of a Vial into his Mouth. He stirs, And stretches now, and seems to essay his limbs. . Cleom. Where am I?

[Standing awhile; they support him. Clean. In his arms, who died with you, And, now you live, revives.

Cleom. Art thou Pantheus ?
Panth. Believe your eyes, I am.

Cleom. Speak then, and truly, (for I trust not him,) Who brought me back to life?

Panth. Who, but he, who was left single with you, Who caught you, falling, in his faithful arms; · And, not alone sufficient to restore you, Called loud for my assistance. I found him, propping you with trembling hands; His eyes so hagard, I could scarce distinguish Who was the living friend, and who the dead. Cleom. All this, Cleanthes ! This, what this Cle

anthes ? Panth. Yes, your Cleanthes.

Clean. Your suspected friend,
Much wronged, but ever faithful.

Cleom. Art thou sure
I live? Or am I in the regions of the dead,
And hear the fables there, myself a fable?

Panth. Go in, and see your chearful family
Fating his bread, brought in their last distress;

And, with a good mistaking piety,
First blessing him, then heaven.

Cleom. When I hear this, I have no need of food; I am restored without it.

Clean. Then, now hear me; How I was forced into this seeming falsehood, To save myself, the only means remaining To save the man I love beyond myself, And gain a needful credit with Cassandra : And yet even then deceived, and sent far off For three long days, unknowing of your wants, Not thinking she, who loved, could use you thus. By famishment to

Cleom. O, no more! no more! For now I understand, ere thou canst speak it half: To thee I owed the seizing of my sword, Lest I should fall by odds; my wife's return, All, all to thee; and thou art more than all. Canst thou forgive me? Canst thou, my Cleanthes ? Can I deserve thus to grow here once more?

[Embracing him Let me embrace myself quite into thee. : !' Cleon. Come, come as fiercely as thou wilt, I meet thee;

[Embraces CLEOM. I close within thee, and am thou again,

Panth. Why, this is as it should be.

Cleom. I could not thus have taken to the death Another’s falsehood, hut thine, only thine;

infinitely, infinitely loving, 'Twas a wide gap thou mad'st within my bosom, And as my soul rent from me.

Clean. But thy hunger! This violent transport of my reconcilement Makes me forget thy wants; when I embraced thee, Thy spungy body dwindled in my arms, And, like a ghost, fled from me.

Cleom. I could eat

[Going in.