How my empty guts cry out! My wounds ache,
Would they would bleed again, that I might get
Something to quench my thirst!
Franville. O Lamure, the happiness my dogs had
When I kept house at home! They had a storehouse,
A storehouse of most blessed bones and crusts.
Happy crusts! Oh, how sharp hunger pinches me!
Lamure. How now, what news?
Morillar. Hast any meat yet?
Franville. Not a bit that I can see.