The long curls of rose-crowned hair.
ALCIBIADES. Sweetly sung; but mournfully, Chariclea; for which I would chide you, but that I am sad myself. More wine there. I wish to all the gods that I had fairly sailed from Athens.
CHARICLEA. And from me, Alcibiades?
ALCIBIADES. Yes, from you, dear lady. The days which immediately precede separation are the most melancholy of our lives.
CHARICLEA. Except those which immediately follow it.
ALCIBIADES. No; when I cease to see you, other objects may compel my attention; but can I be near you without thinking how lovely you are, and how soon I must leave you?
HIPPOMACHUS. Ay; travelling soon puts such thoughts out of men's heads.
CALLICLES. A battle is the best remedy for them.
CHARICLEA. A battle, I should think, might supply their place with others as unpleasant.
CALLICLES. No. The preparations are rather disagreeable to a novice. But as soon as the fighting begins, by Jupiter, it is a noble time;—men trampling,—shields clashing,—spears breaking,—and the poean roaring louder than all.
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