And have you then no sand among your people
That you must do this?
Art.
We? Have we no sand?
Enough to blot and bury all Judaea!
It’s just because the satrap there with us
Will have things better done than others do them.
Why, know you not a man’s pulse tallies truer,
If he be sound and have no fevered blood,
Than ever sand of yours runs through its pipes?