Oscar Wilde: The Complete Works. Knowledge house
me? Bring out the prophet. I wish to see him.
second soldier
Princess, I beg you do not require this of us.
salomé
You keep me waiting!
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.
·15· salomé
[Looking at the young Syrian.] Ah!
the page of herodias
Oh! what is going to happen? I am sure that some misfortune will happen.
salomé
[Going up to the young Syrian.] You will do this thing for me, will you not, Narraboth? You will do this thing for me. I have always been kind to you. You will do it for me. I would but look at this strange prophet. Men have talked so much of him. Often have I heard the Tetrarch talk of him. I think the Tetrarch is afraid of him. Are you, even you, 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.
salomé
You will 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 you a little flower, a little green flower.
the young syrian
Princess, I cannot, I cannot.
·16· salomé
[Smiling.] You will do this thing for me, Narraboth. You know that you will do this thing for me. And to-morrow when I pass in my litter by the bridge of the idol-buyers, I will look at you through the muslin veils, I will look at you, Narraboth, it may be I will smile at you. Look at me, Narraboth, look at me. Ah! you know that you will do what I ask of you. You know it well…. I know that you will do this thing.
the young syrian
[Signing to the third soldier.] Let the prophet come forth…. The Princess Salomé desires to see him.
salomé
Ah!
the page of herodias
Oh! How strange the moon looks. You would think it was the hand of a dead woman who is seeking to cover herself with a shroud.
the young syrian
She has a strange look! 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. Salomé looks at him and steps slowly back.]
·17· jokanaan
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 ·18· 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.
·19· 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 [E: God.]
·20· 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.
·21· salomé
Jokanaan!
jokanaan