To-day before the Judges; for a mask
The axe is whetted, but it strikes myself.
Titus.
I stand dumbfounded, Queen, and yet I charge you
With no injustice when perforce I say
That you had duped my very self, had filled me
With horror and recoil before your feast
As now with shudders and admiring wonder.
If thus with me, how could this show for him
Have failed to dim your Being in a darkness,