Whoever he may be, the rite of burial,
Still holier is the duty from a shame
To wash him clean if he deserve it not.
This duty now lays law on me alone.
Herod.
I see from all you say one only thing—
Her spell in death itself was true to her.
Why eats Soemus still my heart? How could he
Resist this blinding woman in her life?
Even in the dying flash she kindled you.