Confess that one.
Herod.
He were not what he is
If he should do it, for he knows full well
What follows that, and hopes now through his lying
To waken in my breast one last misdoubting
Such as will guard, if not perchance his head,
Then hers before the coming bulk of death.
He errs, though. That misdoubting lacks its sting.
Had I no cause to punish what she did