Cas. I would, but cannot speak.
The shame that should to womankind belong,
Flown from my bosom, hovers on my tongue. [Aside.
Cleom. 'Tis rarely seen, that gods from heaven descend,
But for some kind, some charitable end.
And yet your troubled looks ill news import,
Stops, or delays; but that's no news at court:
There's somewhat which your pity would disguise.
Cas. Would you could read that somewhat in my eyes!
But, as you are a Spartan and a king,