Within that cup. It is an offering
To devils. See, the wine blazes like fire,
It flows like blood, it is a cursed cup,
Fulfilled of treachery and hate.
Dear master, noble master, touch it not!
NAAMAN:
Poor maid, thy brain is still distraught. Fear not
But let me go! Here, treat her tenderly!
[Gives her into the hands of SABALLIDIN.]
Can harm befall me from the wife who bears