Salomé: A Tragedy in One Act
Where is he whose cup of abominations is now full? Where is he,
who in a robe of silver shall one day die in the face of all the
people? Bid him come forth, that he may hear the voice of him who
hath cried in the waste places and in the houses of kings.
SALOMÉ
Of whom is he speaking?
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
You can never tell, Princess.
JOKANAAN
Where is she who having seen the images of men painted on the
walls, the images of the Chaldeans limned in colours, gave
herself up unto the lust of her eyes, and sent ambassadors into
Chaldea?
SALOMÉ
It is of my mother that he speaks.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Oh, no, Princess.
SALOMÉ
Yes; it is of my mother that he speaks.
JOKANAAN
Where is she who gave herself unto the Captains of Assyria, who
have baldricks on their loins, and tiaras of divers colours on
their heads? Where is she who hath given herself to the young men
of Egypt, who are clothed in fine linen and purple, whose shields
are of gold, whose helmets are of silver, whose bodies are
mighty? Bid her rise up from the bed of her abominations, from
the bed of her incestuousness, that she may hear the words of him
who prepareth the way of the Lord, that she may repent her of her
iniquities. Though she will never repent, but will stick fast in
her abominations; bid her come, for the fan of the Lord is in His
hand.
SALOMÉ
But he is terrible, he is terrible!
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Do not stay here, Princess, I beseech you.
SALOMÉ
It is his eyes above all that are terrible. They are like black
holes burned by torches in a Tyrian tapestry. They are like black
caverns where dragons dwell. They are like the black caverns of
Egypt in which the dragons make their lairs. They are like black
lakes troubled by fantastic moons.... Do you think he will speak
again?
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Do not stay here, Princess. I pray you do not stay here.
SALOMÉ
How wasted he is! He is like a thin ivory statue. He is like an
image of silver. I am sure he is chaste as the moon is. He is
like a moonbeam, like a shaft of silver. His flesh must be cool
like ivory. I would look closer at him.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
No, no, Princess.
SALOMÉ
I must look at him closer.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess! Princess!
JOKANAAN
Who is this woman who is looking at me? I will not have her look
at me. Wherefore doth she look at me with her golden eyes, under
her gilded eyelids? I know not who she is. I do not wish to know
who she is. Bid her begone. It is not to her that I would speak.
SALOMÉ
I am Salomé, daughter of Herodias, Princess of Judæa.
JOKANAAN
Back! daughter of Babylon! Come not near the chosen of the Lord.
Thy mother hath filled the earth with the wine of her iniquities,
and the cry of her sins hath come up to the ears of God.
SALOMÉ
Speak again, Jokanaan. Thy voice is wine to me.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess! Princess! Princess!
SALOMÉ
Speak again! Speak again, Jokanaan, and tell me what I must do.
JOKANAAN
Daughter of Sodom, come not near me! But cover thy face with a
veil, and scatter ashes upon thine head, and get thee to the
desert and seek out the Son of Man.
SALOMÉ
Who is he, the Son of Man? Is he as beautiful as thou art,
Jokanaan?
JOKANAAN
Get thee behind me! I hear in the palace the beating of the wings
of the angel of death.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess, I beseech thee to go within.
JOKANAAN
Angel of the Lord God, what dost thou here with thy sword? Whom
seekest thou in this foul palace? The day of him who shall die in
a robe of silver has not yet come.
SALOMÉ
Jokanaan!
JOKANAAN
Who speaketh?
SALOMÉ
Jokanaan, I am amorous of thy body! Thy body is white like the
lilies of a field that the mower hath never mowed. Thy body is
white like the snows that lie on the mountains, like the snows
that lie on the mountains of Judæa, and come down into the
valleys. The roses in the garden of the Queen of Arabia are not
so white as thy body. Neither the roses in the garden of the
Queen of Arabia, the perfumed garden of spices of the Queen of
Arabia, nor the feet of the dawn when they light on the leaves,
nor the breast of the moon when she lies on the breast of the
sea.... There is nothing in the world so white as thy body. Let
me touch thy body.
JOKANAAN
Back! daughter of Babylon! By woman came evil into the world.
Speak not to me. I will not listen to thee. I listen but to the
voice of the Lord God.
SALOMÉ
Thy body is hideous. It is like the body of a leper. It is like a
plastered wall where vipers have crawled; like a plastered wall
where the scorpions have made their nest. It is like a whitened
sepulchre full of loathsome things. It is horrible, thy body is
horrible. It is of thy hair that I am enamoured, Jokanaan. Thy
hair is like clusters of grapes, like the clusters of black
grapes that hang from the vine-trees of Edom in the land of the
Edomites. Thy hair is like the cedars of Lebanon, like the great
cedars of Lebanon that give their shade to the lions and to the
robbers who would hide themselves by day. The long black nights,
when the moon hides her face, when the stars are afraid, are not
so black. The silence that dwells in the forest is not so black.
There is nothing in the world so black as thy hair.... Let me
touch thy hair.
JOKANAAN
Back, daughter of Sodom! Touch me not. Profane not the temple of
the Lord God.
SALOMÉ
Thy hair is horrible. It is covered with mire and dust. It is
like a crown of thorns which they have placed on thy forehead. It
is like a knot of black serpents writhing round thy neck. I love
not thy hair.... It is thy mouth that I desire, Jokanaan. Thy
mouth is like a band of scarlet on a tower of ivory. It is like a
pomegranate cut with a knife of ivory. The pomegranate-flowers
that blossom in the gardens of Tyre, and are redder than roses,
are not so red. The red blasts of trumpets that herald the
approach of kings, and make afraid the enemy, are not so red.
Thy mouth is redder than the feet of those who tread the wine in
the wine-press. Thy mouth is redder than the feet of the doves
who haunt the temples and are fed by the priests. It is redder
than the feet of him who cometh from a forest where he hath slain
a lion, and seen gilded tigers. Thy mouth is like a branch of
coral that fishers have found in the twilight of the sea, the
coral that they keep for the kings!... It is like the vermilion
that the Moabites find in the mines of Moab, the vermilion that
the kings take from them. It is like the bow of the King of the
Persians, that is painted with vermilion, and is tipped with
coral. There is nothing in the world so red as thy mouth.... Let
me kiss thy mouth.
JOKANAAN
Never! daughter of Babylon! Daughter of Sodom! Never.
SALOMÉ
I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan. I will kiss thy mouth.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess, Princess, thou who art like a garden of myrrh, thou who
art the dove of all doves, look not at this man, look not at him!
Do not speak such words to him. I cannot suffer them....
Princess, Princess, do not speak these things.
SALOMÉ
I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Ah! [_He kills himself and falls between Salomé and Jokanaan._]
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
The young Syrian has slain himself! The young captain has slain
himself! He has slain himself who was my friend! I gave him a
little box of perfumes and ear-rings wrought in silver, and now
he has killed himself! Ah, did he not foretell that some
misfortune would happen? I, too, foretold it, and it has
happened. Well I knew that the moon was seeking a dead thing, but
I knew not that it was he whom she sought. Ah! why did I not hide
him from the moon? If I had hidden him in a cavern she would not
have seen him.
FIRST SOLDIER
Princess, the young captain has just killed himself.
SALOMÉ
Let me kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan.
JOKANAAN
Art thou not afraid, daughter of Herodias? Did I not tell thee
that I had heard in the palace the beatings of the wings of the
angel of death, and hath he not come, the angel of death?
SALOMÉ
Let me kiss thy mouth.
JOKANAAN
Daughter of adultery, there is but one who can save thee, it is
He of whom I spake. Go seek Him. He is in a boat on the sea of
Galilee, and He talketh with His disciples. Kneel down on the
shore of the sea, and call unto Him by His name. When He cometh
to thee (and to all who call on Him He cometh), bow thyself at
His feet and ask of Him the remission of thy sins.
SALOMÉ
Let me kiss thy mouth.
JOKANAAN
Cursed be thou! daughter of an incestuous mother, be thou
accursed!
SALOMÉ
I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan.
JOKANAAN
I do no wish to look at thee. I will not look at thee, thou art
accursed, Salomé, thou art accursed. [_He goes down into the
cistern._]
SALOMÉ
I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan; I will kiss thy mouth.
FIRST SOLDIER
We must bear away the body to another place. The Tetrarch does
not care to see dead bodies, save the bodies of those whom he
himself has slain.
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
He was my brother, and nearer to me than a brother. I gave him a
little box full of perfumes, and a ring of agate that he wore
always on his hand. In the evening we used to walk by the river,
among the almond trees, and he would tell me of the things of his
country. He spake ever very low. The sound of his voice was like
the sound of the flute, of a flute player. Also he much loved to
gaze at himself in the river. I used to reproach him for that.
SECOND SOLDIER
You are right; we must hide the body. The Tetrarch must not see
it.
FIRST SOLDIER
The Tetrarch will not come to this place. He never comes on the
terrace. He is too much afraid of the prophet.
[_Enter Herod, Herodias, and all the Court._]
HEROD
Where is Salomé? Where is the Princess? Why did she not return to
the banquet as I commanded her? Ah! there she is!
HERODIAS
You must not look at her! You are always looking at her!
HEROD
The moon has a strange look to-night. Has she not a strange look?
She is like a mad woman, a mad woman who is seeking everywhere
for lovers. She is naked too. She is quite naked. The clouds are
seeking to clothe her nakedness, but she will not let them. She
shows herself naked in the sky. She reels through the clouds like
a drunken woman.... I am sure she is looking for lovers. Does she
not reel like a drunken woman? She is like a mad woman, is she
not?
HERODIAS
No; the moon is like the moon, that is all. Let us go within....
You have nothing to do here.
HEROD
I will stay here! Manesseh, lay carpets there. Light torches,
bring forth the ivory tables, and the tables of jasper. The air
here is delicious. I will drink more wine with my guests. We must
show all honours to the ambassadors of Cæsar.
HERODIAS
It is not because of them that you remain.
HEROD
Yes; the air is delicious. Come, Herodias, our guests await us.
Ah! I have slipped! I have slipped in blood! It is an ill omen.
It is a very evil omen. Wherefore is there blood here?... and
this body, what does this body here? Think you I am like the King
of Egypt, who gives no feast to his guests but that he shows them
a corpse? Whose is it? I will not look on it.
FIRST SOLDIER
It is our captain, sire. He is the young Syrian whom you made
captain only three days ago.
HEROD
I gave no order that he should be slain.
SECOND SOLDIER
He killed himself, sire.
HEROD
For what reason? I had made him captain.
SECOND SOLDIER
We do not know, sire. But he killed himself.
HEROD
That seems strange to me. I thought it was only the Roman
philosophers who killed themselves. Is it not true, Tigellinus,