’Tis true she’ll speak just as the murderer spoke-- “’Twas given her for a gift!” And she may dare it Because a chamber, like a wood, is dumb. But were you tempted thus to give her credit Then I will set in scale my inmost feeling And probing of each possibility As counterbalance, and demand her death,-- Her death, I say! no more this nauseous goblet I’ll empty which her proud defiance fills, Nor day on day be gadflied with the riddle If such a pride’s the most repellent face Of Innocence, or the most brazen mask Of Sin. I’ll rescue me from out this whirlpool Boiling with hate and love ere I be choked, And be the cost as high as e’er it may. Therefore away with her! You dally still? It’s settled! What? I missed the telling point? Then speak! I know that silence is my part, But speak! speak! Sit not there like Solomon Between the mothers with the pair of children. Her case is clear; you need no more for sentence Than what you see! A woman that stands there As she does, earns her death though she were clean Of every guilt. And still you never speak? Will you perchance first have the proof how fast Is my conviction that she has deceived? Such I will give you through Soemus’ head And that at once. [_He goes up to_ JOAB. TITUS (_rising_). I say this is not trial. Your pardon! [_Is about to go._ MAR. Roman, stay! I recognise it, Who can repudiate it if not I? [TITUS _seats himself again_. ALEXANDRA _rises_. MAR. (_approaching her, and in a subdued voice_). You’ve wrought on me much harm and never has Your meed of happiness by mine been measured. If I’m to pardon that, be silent now. You alter naught; my will is firm and fixed. [ALEXANDRA _seats herself again_. And now, my Judges? AARON (_to the other_ JUDGES). Let that man rise up Who deems the sentence of the King unjust! [_All remain seated._ You therefore all resolve yourselves for death? (_Rising._) Queen, you are here condemned to suffer death. Have you aught still to answer? MAR. If the headsman Is not bespoke already and by now Awaits me with his axe, then I would crave A final word with Titus ere my death. (_To_ HEROD.) It is not wont to give the last request Of dying men refusal. Can you grant it, Then let my life be added unto yours. HEROD. The Headsman is not yet bespoke. I can. And since you promise me eternity As my reward, I must, and more, I will. (_To_ TITUS.) This woman is an awesome thing! TITUS.