Oc. Why not, my lord?
Diony. You're Dion's heart. You cast him off?
Oc. You ask
For proof? I take his wife. Were I to warm
My fingers in his blood, I'd have more hope
That he would rise and bless me than to keep
His love while she lies on my bosom.
Ara. O!
Oc. I challenge any here to match my claim.
This is the sword, my lord, that held the city