Panth. He's here that can resolve you. [Exit Pantheus.
Enter Cleanthes, with 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.—