I laid on him—ask me not why—command
Whereby he was to kill her if myself
Should have no home-return. That thus I did
Proves you how deep I trusted him. Believe me
I had good ground therefor, and if the iron,
Whereof the man is mettled, flagged and flowed,
It proves but this, that he was in the fire.
Titus.
Yes, yes, and yet—’tis not what I’d have done.
Herod.