I thought a king, and, what you boast, a Spartan,
Might have known this, without the Egyptian's telling.
Cleom. Come, come; thou dar'st not fight.
Clean. 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,