No More Learning

Where's my cupbearer?
Bring me some water.

_Sal. _ (_smiling_) 'Tis the first time he
Ever had such an order: even I,[z]
Your most austere of counsellors, would now
Suggest a purpler beverage.

_Sar. _ Blood--doubtless.
But there's enough of that shed; as for wine,
I have learned to-night the price of the pure element: 350
Thrice have I drank of it, and thrice renewed,
With greater strength than the grape ever gave me,
My charge upon the rebels. Where's the soldier
Who gave me water in his helmet? [20]

_One of the Guards_. Slain, Sire!
An arrow pierced his brain, while, scattering[aa]
The last drops from his helm, he stood in act
To place it on his brows.

_Sar. _ Slain! unrewarded!
And slain to serve my thirst: that's hard, poor slave!
Had he but lived, I would have gorged him with
Gold: all the gold of earth could ne'er repay 360
The pleasure of that draught; for I was parched
As I am now. [_They bring water--he drinks_.
I live again--from henceforth
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----

_Sar. _ The fillet of my diadem: the first time
That ornament was ever aught to me, 370
Save an incumbrance.

_Myr.