There you err. I spoke the truth in all. His equal peer I do not deem myself nor ever shall. How many a paltry wight there is I know Who, just because his blood’s no kin of his, Yields muttering homage; others too, I know, Keep troth alone for Mariamne’s sake. But I am never bonded with that brood That rather to a baby’s sword is loyal, If it be birthright, than a hero’s sword That is not wrought till smithied out of fire. I ever saw the higher soul in him, And when the weapon-brother dropped his shield I raised it for him with as ready will As e’er I raised his sceptre for the King. The crown and the first woman: both I yielded With grudgeless heart, for I had felt his worth. ALEX. But you too are a man! SOEMUS. That I am not Forgetful of such truth I prove you now. There’s none so great that I’m a working-tool Fit to his use. Who calls on me for service That rendered or not rendered, come what may, Makes me to sure and shameful death devote, That man annuls my every bond, to him My duty is to show that ’twixt the King And slave there is an intermediate stage And that the Man takes stand on this. ALEX. To me ’Tis one what ground you had. Enough; you’ve come To join my faction. SOEMUS. Fear no battle more, He is as good as dead. Octavian Is scarce an Antony who lets the flesh Be hacked from body and forgives the deed Because he can admire the hand that does it. _He_ only sees the strokes. ALEX. And what says Titus? SOEMUS. He thinks as I do. I had Sameas Set free alone because it is my wish To answer my account. Indeed I had No other way to audience with the Queen. Now knows she what she needs must know, and now When the death-tidings come is strong to meet them. That was my aim. A noble heart! and kill her? Her very tears would rouse the soul of pity! ALEX. Ay, true! And what a tender husband! Seek her, Persuade her only that she give herself To Rome for shelter, and attend the feast Which is the signal that she breaks with Herod Be he now dead or living. SOEMUS (_following her_). He is dead! [_Exeunt._ SCENE 4 _The Castle on Zion. A Hall._ MOSES, ARTAXERXES, JEHU, _and other_ SERVANTS _preparing a feast_. _Afterwards_ SOEMUS, SILO, JUDAS. MOSES. Come, Artaxerxes! Still with wits a-rambling? Look sharp, look sharp! You play no clock with us. ART.