The goblet I reserve for hours of love,
But war on water.
Sal.And that bandage, Sire,
Which girds your arm?
Sar.A scratch from brave Beleses.
Myr. Oh! he is wounded![ab]
Sar.Not too much of that;
And yet it feels a little stiff and painful,
Now I am cooler.
Myr.You have bound it with——