SALOME
You are making me wait upon your pleasure.

FIRST SOLDIER
Princess, our lives belong to you, but we cannot do what you have asked of us. And indeed, it is not of us that you should ask this thing.

SALOME
[Looking at the young Syrian.] Ah!

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
Oh! what is going to happen? I am sure that something terrible will happen.

SALOME
[Going up to the young Syrian.] Thou wilt do this thing for me, wilt. thou not, Narraboth? Thou wilt do this thing for me. I have ever been kind towards thee. Thou wilt do it for me. I would but look at him, this strange prophet. Men have talked so much of him. Often I have heard the Tetrarch talk of him. I think he is afraid of him, the Tetrarch. Art thou, even thou, also afraid of him, Narraboth?

THE YOUNG SYRIAN
I fear him not, Princess; there is no man I fear. But the Tetrarch has formally forbidden that any man should raise the cover of this well.

SALOME
Thou wilt do this thing for me, Narraboth, and to-morrow when I pass in my litter beneath the gateway of the idol-sellers I will let fall for thee a little flower, a little Green flower.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess, I cannot, I cannot.

SALOME
[Smiling.] Thou wilt do this thing for me, Narraboth. Thou knowest that thou wilt do this thing for me. And on the morrow when I shall pass in my litter by the bridge of the idol-buyers, I will look at thee through the muslin veils, I will look at thee, Narraboth, it may be I will smile at thee. Look at me, Narraboth, look at me. Ah! thou knowest that thou wilt do what I ask of thee. Thou knowest it . . . . I know that thou wilt do this thing.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN
[Signing to the third soldier.] Let the prophet come forth . . . . The Princess Salome desires to see him.

SALOME
Ah!

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
Oh! How strange the moon looks! Like the hand of a dead woman who is seeking to cover herself with a shroud.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN
She has a strange aspect! She is like a little princess, whose eyes are eyes of amber. Through the clouds of muslin she is smiling like a little princess. [The prophet comes out of the cistern. Salome looks at him and steps slowly back.]

IOKANAAN
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.

SALOME
Of whom is he speaking?

THE YOUNG SYRIAN
No one can tell, Princess.

IOKANAAN
Where is she who saw the images of men painted on the walls, even the images of the Chaldaeans painted with colours, and gave herself up unto the lust of her eyes, and sent ambassadors into the land of Chaldæa?

SALOME
It is of my mother that he is speaking.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Oh no, Princess.

SALOME
Yes: it is of my mother that he is speaking.