Panth. Then we may sheath our swords.
Clean. We may, Pantheus;
But, as brave men should, each in his bosom;
That only way is left us to die free.
Cleom. All's lost for which I once desired to live.
Panth. Come to our business then. Be speedy, sir,
And give the word; I'll be the first, to charge
The grim foe, death.
Cleom. Fortune, thou hast reduced me very low,
To do the drudgery of fate myself.