Cleom. Art thou sure
I live? Or am I in the regions of the dead,
And hear the fables there, myself a fable?
Panth. Go in, and see your chearful family
Eating his bread, brought in their last distress;
And, with a good mistaking piety,
First blessing him, then heaven.
Cleom. When I hear this, I have no need of food;
I am restored without it.
Clean. Then, now hear me;