Of our fair prospect, wherein we saw him sit
With listening ear to wisdom.
[To messenger] No!
Ara. My lord——
Dion. Say to the tyrant I'll not feast with him. [Exit messenger]
Ara. May I be bold to say this is not well?
I fear, my lord, your stern, imperious port
Is much against you in our easeful city.
If on occasion you would smooth your brow
To patient lenience you in time would win