Not mine, not mine. Whithersoever goes
The Lamb in Heaven, such do follow Him.
The Prefect. Enough: with quick straightforward words respond.
Who art thou, chief in this unseemly brawl?
Didymus. One new to camp and city, one indeed
No alien, but your servant in the wars,
Beneath the imperial eagles now three years:
Octavius Didymus, centurion.
The Prefect. A Roman, then. What of thy friend, the woman,
Duly condemned for heinous sacrilege?