The Maccabeans wrought unto our folk?
She bears the chronicle upon her face.”
Herod.
Your will is to refute me, and you seal
The sentence I have passed.
Salome.
Nay, hear me out!
’Twas so, I’ll not deny it. But if now
I’ve said more than I know and think and feel,
Yea, if I am not moved by sister’s pity