If so, he must himself have fallen asleep, An omen, for the eternal city’s future, Worse than the bolt of thunder which of late Blasted the She-wolf on the Capitol. HEROD. My thanks to you--and now---- [_Dismisses all except_ JOAB. Ay, so it stands! Traitors in my own house, open defiance From Pharisaic scum, the more unblushing Since I dare not deal chastisement unless I’m mad enough to turn fools into martyrs; And from those Galileans some scant love, No, a self-interested hanging-on, Since I’m the Bogy of the Shining Sword That from the distance scares their rabble-dregs. And--this man brings me certain news of ill; He was too hasty-eager to announce it. For even he, though my own body-slave, Delights in my chagrin if he but knows I must don mask as though I saw it not. (_To_ JOAB.) The news from Alexandria! JOAB. I had speech With Antony. HEROD. O prologue marvellous! Had speech with Antony! I’m used to see My couriers to his audience vouchsafed. You are the first who finds himself compelled To reassure me he was privileged thus. JOAB. A privilege hardly won! I was repulsed, Obdurately repulsed! HEROD (_aside_). A sign he stands Still better with Octavian than I thought! (_Aloud._) That shows you picked the right hour clumsily. JOAB. I picked each single one o’ the twenty-four That make the total day. Whate’er was doing I budged not from the spot, never a foot, Even when the soldiers offered me some morsel, And, when I spurned their bounty, vented japes:-- “He’ll only eat the leavings of the cat And what the dogs have tattered with their jaws!” At last I had success---- HEROD. Some cleverer man Had won forthwith---- JOAB. In gaining audience. It was now night, and the first notion forced Upon my mind was that I had been summoned To lengthen out his gibing soldiers’ jest. For, as I entered, there before my eyes A ring of cushion-sprawling drinkers lay; But he with his own hand filled me with a goblet And called out to me--“Drain this to my health!” I courteously declined, whereat he said:-- “If killing yonder fellow were my mood I’d merely need for but an eight-days’ space To have him at my board, and pile thereon The tribute paid me by the earth and ocean. He’d sit an-idling, peak away from famine, And swear in dying he’d a bellyful!” HEROD.