Oc. This arm has fought your battles, sir!
Diony. Ay, so.
Would we might rank your famous valiancy
Once more with us, but while we doubt your heart
You are our enemy.
Oc. What proof, my lord——
Diony. We'll find it soon enough. Till then have care,
And dainty walk 'tween wolf and precipice!
[Dionysius and lords go into garden]
Oc. No cry this wrong would give the sea new tongue,