And then she wept.
Darius in the morning,
Seeing her tears, thought only of his purpose.
He should conceal it better. She was afraid,
Was frantic, she might go somewhere and tell.
That boy—he was so hard to keep in anger.
He faltered, and he wilted; he was a fool.
That boy, the center of confusion’s cross,
For still he hated Daniel, still with Darius
Plotted the loud death; yet loved all day,