Cleom. Go thou; thy youth calls fiercer than my age.
Cleon. But then make haste, and come to take your part:
Hunger may make me impious, to eat all,
And leave you last to starve. [Exit Cleonidas.
Panth. Sir, will you go?
Cleom. I know not; I am half seas o'er to death;
And, since I must die once, I would be loth
To make a double work of what's half finished;
Unless I could be sure the gods would still
Renew these miracles.[44]—Who brought this food?