IOKANAAN
Where is she who gave herself unto the Captains of Assyria, who have baldricks on
their loins, and crowns of many colours on their heads? Where is she who hath given
herself to the young men of the Egyptians, who are clothed in fine linen and hyacinth,
whose shields are of gold, whose helmets are of silver, whose bodies are mighty?
Go, 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 not repent, but will stick fast in her
abominations, go bid her come, for the fan of the Lord is in His hand.
SALOME
Ah, but he is terrible, he is terrible!
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Do not stay here, Princess, I beseech you.
SALOME
It is his eyes above all that are terrible. They are like black holes burned by
torches in a tapestry of Tyre. They are like the black caverns where the dragons
live, 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.
SALOME
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 very cold, cold as ivory . . . . I would look closer at him.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
No, no, Princess!
SALOME
I must look at him closer.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess! Princess!
IOKANAAN
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 desire to know who she is. Bid her begone,
it is not to her that I would speak.
SALOME
I am Salome, daughter of Herodias, Princess of Judaea.
IOKANAAN
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 sinning hath
come up even to the ears of God.
SALOME
Speak again, Iokanaan. Thy voice is as music to mine ear.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess! Princess! Princess!
SALOME
Speak again! Speak again, Iokanaan, and tell me what I must do.
IOKANAAN
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.
SALOME
Who is he, the Son of Man? Is he as beautiful as thou art, Iokanaan?
IOKANAAN
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.
IOKANAAN
Angel of the Lord God, what dost thou here with thy sword? Whom seekest thou in this
palace? The day of him who shall die in a robe of silver has not yet come.