Most loves to speak, are banished from my mouth.
Cleor. Tell us, my love, the king has changed his mind,
And has refused us leave; for we can bear it:
Egypt is Greece to me, while you are here.
Cleom. Oh I would speak! But, oh! you speak so kindly,
That you forbid my speech: You call me love.
Cleor. Was that too kind a word?
Cleom. It was to me: I am a mere barbarian,
A brute, a stock, for I have no relations,