And yet—If from the wall a javelin darted
It had not tricked my expectation more.
Alex.
Two thrusts, and then the throneward way is free:
For when the Maccabeans are no more
The turn comes round for the Herodians.
Mar.
I’d laugh you yet to ridicule if only
His wife were not Salome. By my brother
Her head is mine! For I shall say to Herod,