Now surely, now if never it could be.
Ah, but it cannot be! There is no impulse
Of baser sort that spots my innermost
For all my stormy-ridden breast. I would
Now at this moment give to Antony
The answer, yea the very self-same answer
I would have given him on our wedding-day.
It wounds me as it wounds because I feel it,
Else were I bound to suffer, yea, to pardon.
Salome (to Mariamne).