Salomé

Oscar Wilde

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9780486154343
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

Outraged by the sexual perversity of this one-act tragedy, Great Britain's Lord Chamberlain banned Salomé from the national stage. Symbolist poets and writers — Stéphane Mallarmé and Maurice Maeterlinck among them — defended the play's literary brilliance. Beyond its notoriety, the drama's haunting poetic imagery, biblical cadences, and febrile atmosphere have earned it a reputation as a masterpiece of the Aesthetic movement of fin de siècle England.
Written originally in French in 1892, this sinister tale of a woman scorned and her vengeance was translated into English by Lord Alfred Douglas. The play inspired some of Aubrey Beardsley's finest illustrations, and an abridged version served as the text for Strauss' renowned opera of the same name. This volume reprints the complete text of the first English edition, published in 1894, and also includes "A Note on Salomé" by Robert Ross, Wilde's lifelong friend and literary executor. Students, lovers of literature and drama, and admirers of Oscar Wilde and his remarkable literary gifts will rejoice in this inexpensive edition.

The Persons of the Play

HEROD ANTIPAS, TETRARCH OF JUDÆA
IOKANAAN, THE PROPHET
THE YOUNG SYRIAN, CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD
TIGELLINUS, A YOUNG ROMAN
A CAPPADOCIAN
A NUBIAN
FIRST SOLDIER
SECOND SOLDIER
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
JEWS, NAZARENES, ETC.
A SLAVE
NAAMAN, THE EXECUTIONER
HERODIAS, WIFE OF THE TETRARCH
SALOME, DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS
THE SLAVES OF SALOME

SCENE–A great terrace in the Palace of Herod, set above the banqueting-hall. Some soldiers are leaning over the balcony. To the right there is a gigantic staircase, to the left, at the back, an old cistern surrounded by a wall of green bronze. The moon is shining very brightly.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

How beautiful is the Princess Salome tonight!

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

Look at the moon. How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from a tomb. She is like a dead woman. One might fancy she was looking for dead things.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

She has a strange look. She is like a little princess who wears a yellow veil, and whose feet are of silver. She is like a princess who has little white doves for feet. One might fancy she was dancing.

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

She is like a woman who is dead. She moves very slowly. [Noise in the banqueting-hall.]

FIRST SOLDIER:

What an uproar! Who are those wild beasts howling?

SECOND SOLDIER:

The Jews. They are always like that. They are disputing about their religion.

FIRST SOLDIER:

Why do they dispute about their religion?

SECOND SOLDIER:

I cannot tell. They are always doing it. The Pharisees, for instance, say that there are angels, and the Sadducees declare that angels do not exist.

FIRST SOLDIER:

I think it is ridiculous to dispute about such things.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

How beautiful is the Princess Salome tonight!

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

You are always looking at her. You look at her too much. It is dangerous to look at people in such fashion. Something terrible may happen.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

She is very beautiful tonight.

FIRST SOLDIER:

The Tetrarch has a sombre aspect.

SECOND SOLDIER:

Yes; he has a sombre aspect.

FIRST SOLDIER:

He is looking at something.

SECOND SOLDIER:

He is looking at some one.

FIRST SOLDIER:

At whom is he looking?

SECOND SOLDIER:

I cannot tell.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

How pale the Princess is! Never have I seen her so pale. She is like the shadow of a white rose in a mirror of silver.

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

You must not look at her. You look too much at her.

FIRST SOLDIER:

Herodias has filled the cup of the Tetrarch.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

Is that the Queen Herodias, she who wears a black mitre sewed with pearls, and whose hair is powdered with blue dust?

FIRST SOLDIER:

Yes; that is Herodias, the Tetrarch’s wife.

SECOND SOLDIER:

The Tetrarch is very fond of wine. He has wine of three sorts. One which is brought from the Island of Samothrace, and is purple like the cloak of Cæsar.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

I have never seen Cæsar.

SECOND SOLDIER:

Another that comes from a town called Cyprus, and is as yellow as gold.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

I love gold.

SECOND SOLDIER:

And the third is a wine of Sicily. That wine is as red as blood.

THE NUBIAN:

The gods of my country are very fond of blood. Twice in the year we sacrifice to them young men and maidens: fifty young men and a hundred maidens. But I am afraid that we never give them quite enough, for they are very harsh to us.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

In my country there are no gods left. The Romans have driven them out. There are some who say that they have hidden themselves in the mountains, but I do not believe it. Three nights I have been on the mountains seeking them everywhere. I did not find them, and at last I called them by their names, and they did not come. I think they are dead.

FIRST SOLDIER:

The Jews worship a God that one cannot see.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

I cannot understand that.

FIRST SOLDIER:

In fact, they only believe in things that one cannot see.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

That seems to me altogether ridiculous.

THE VOICE OF IOKANAAN:

After me shall come another mightier than I. I am not worthy so much as to unloose the latchet of his shoes. When he cometh the solitary places shall be glad. They shall blossom like the rose. The eyes of the blind shall see the day, and the ears of the deaf shall be opened. The sucking child shall put his hand upon the dragon’s lair, he shall lead the lions by their manes.

SECOND SOLDIER:

Make him be silent. He is always saying ridiculous things.

FIRST SOLDIER:

No, no. He is a holy man. He is very gentle, too. Every day when I give him to eat he thanks me.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

Who is he?

FIRST SOLDIER:

A prophet.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

What is his name?

FIRST SOLDIER:

Iokanaan.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

Whence comes he?

FIRST SOLDIER:

From the desert, where he fed on locusts and wild honey. He was clothed in camel’s hair, and round his loins he had a leathern belt. He was very terrible to look upon. A great multitude used to follow him. He even had disciples.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

What is he talking of?

FIRST SOLDIER:

We can never tell. Sometimes he says things that affright one, but it is impossible to understand what he says.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

May one see him?

FIRST SOLDIER:

No. The Tetrarch has forbidden it.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

The Princess has hidden her face behind her fan! Her little white hands are fluttering like doves that fly to their dove-cots. They are like white butterflies. They are just like white butterflies.

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

What is that to you? Why do you look at her? You must not look at her. . . . Something terrible may happen.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

[Pointing to the cistern.] What a strange prison!

SECOND SOLDIER:

It is an old cistem.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

An old cistern! That must be a poisonous place in which to dwell!

SECOND SOLDIER:

Oh no! For instance, the Tetrarch’s brother, his elder brother, the first husband of Herodias the Queen, was imprisoned there for twelve years. It did not kill him. At the end of the twelve years he had to be strangled.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

Strangled? Who dared to do that?

SECOND SOLDIER:

[Pointing to the Executioner, a huge negro.] That man yonder, Naaman.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

He was not afraid?

SECOND SOLDIER:

Oh no! The Tetrarch sent him the ring.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

What ring?

SECOND SOLDIER:

The death ring. So he was not afraid.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

Yet it is a terrible thing to strangle a king.

FIRST SOLDIER:

Why? Kings have but one neck, like other men.

THE CAPPADOCIAN:

I think it terrible.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

The Princess is getting up! She is leaving the table! She looks very troubled. Ah, she is coming this way. Yes, she is coming towards us. How pale she is! Never have I seen her so pale.

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

Do not look at her. I pray you not to look at her.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

She is like a dove that has strayed. . . . She is like a narcissus trembling in the wind. . . . She is like a silver flower. [Enter Salome.]

SALOME:

I will not stay. I cannot stay. Why does the Tetrarch look at me all the while with his mole’s eyes under his shaking eyelids? It is strange that the husband of my mother looks at me like that. I know not what it means. Of a truth I know it too well.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

You have left the feast, Princess?

SALOME:

How sweet is the air here! I can breathe here! Within there are Jews from Jerusalem who are tearing each other in pieces over their foolish ceremonies, and barbarians who drink and drink and spill their wine on the pavement, and Greeks from Smyrna with painted eyes and painted cheeks, and frizzed hair curled in columns, and Egyptians silent and subtle, with long nails of jade and russet cloaks, and Romans brutal and coarse, with their uncouth jargon. Ah! how I loathe the Romans! They are rough and common, and they give themselves the airs of noble lords.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

Will you be seated, Princess.

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS:

Why do you speak to her? Oh! something terrible will happen. Why do you look at her?

SALOME:

How good to see the moon! She is like a little piece of money, a little silver flower. She is cold and chaste. I am sure she is a virgin. She has the beauty of a virgin. Yes, she is a virgin. She has never defiled herself. She has never abandoned herself to men, like the other goddesses.

THE VOICE OF IOKANAAN:

Behold! the Lord hath come. The Son of Man is at hand. The centaurs have hidden themselves in the rivers, and the nymphs have left the rivers, and are lying beneath the leaves in the forests.

SALOME:

Who was that who cried out?

SECOND SOLDIER:

The prophet, Princess.

SALOME:

Ah, the prophet! He of whom the Tetrarch is afraid?

SECOND SOLDIER:

We know nothing of that, Princess. It was the prophet Iokanaan who cried out.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN:

Is it your pleasure that...