I'm sick of one, perchance of both.
[A trumpet sounds without.
Sal.Hark!
Sar.Let us
Reply, not listen.
Sal.And your wound!
Sar.'Tis bound—
'Tis healed—I had forgotten it. Away!
A leech's lancet would have scratched me deeper;[ak]
The slave that gave it might be well ashamed