Salome alone.
Salome.
She’s gone! And yet I feel no throb of heart,
A further sign that she deserves her fate.
And so I have at last my brother back,
My mother also has her son. ’Tis well;
I would not budge from him. Else had the Judges
E’en then his judgment jarred. Nay, Aaron, nay,
No word of prison! She’d remain endungeoned
Not for a moon. The grave alone holds fast,