There is a part of me, an undignified part of me of which I am ashamed. That part thinks that it would be poetic justice for Mrs Bill Clinton’s lifelong presidential ambitions, intricately tied to primitive feminism, awkwardly paired with her husband’s sexual assaults, to founder because of the actions of a notorious public penis shaker.

It would be a twisted take on the Gospel according to Matthew:

“Put your sword in its place, for all who take the sword shall perish by the sword” (Matthew 26: 52).