She has a human heart,—eyes that can fill
With tears,—soft hands that love the thing they touch,—
A body that might be the ivory cup
Delight doth use to dip and measure out
The rose-flood of her pleasure. Go, I say!
Take to the sea, and leave no track my sword
May follow. [Rushes into garden]
Ara. Sir, forgive his madness! Ah,
He is distracted by these wrongs to Dion.
I have not told you, friend, that Dionysius