SALOME by Oscar Wilde

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. Moonlight.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN

How beautiful is the Princess Salomé to-night!

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. You would 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. You would 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
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

I think it is ridiculous to dispute about such things.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN

How beautiful is the Princess Salomé to-night!

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.

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 cistern.
THE CAPPADOCIAN
An old cistern! It must be very unhealthy.
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
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

Oh no! The Tetrarch sent him the ring.

THE CAPPADOCIAN
What ring?
SALOMÉ
What a strange voice! I would speak with him.
FIRST SOLDIER
I fear it is impossible, Princess. The Tetrarch does not wish any one to speak with him. He has even
forbidden the high priest to speak with him.
SALOMÉ
I desire to speak with him.
FIRST SOLDIER
It is impossible, Princess.
SALOMÉ
I will speak with him.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Would it not be better to return to the banquet?
SALOMÉ
Bring forth this prophet.
[Exit the slave.]
FIRST SOLDIER
We dare not, Princess.
SALOMÉ
[Approaching the cistern and looking down into it.]
How black it is, down there! It must be terrible to be in so black a pit! It is like a tomb.... [ To the
soldiers.] Did you not hear 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.
SALOMÉ
[Looking at the young Syrian.]
Ah!
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

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 tiling 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.
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.]
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
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

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
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

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
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

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
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

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?
HEROD
I tell you there is a wind that blows.... And I hear in the air something that is like the beating of wings,
like the beating of vast wings. Do you not hear it?
HERODIAS
I hear nothing.
HEROD
I hear it no longer. But I heard it. It was the blowing of the wind, no doubt. It has passed away. But no, I
hear it again. Do you not hear it? It is just like the beating of wings.
HERODIAS
I tell you there is nothing. You are ill. Let us go within.
HEROD
I am not ill. It is your daughter who is sick. She has the mien of a sick person. Never have I seen her so
pale.
HERODIAS
I have told you not to look at her.
HEROD
Pour me forth wine [wine is brought]. Salomé, come drink a little wine with me. I have here a wine that is
exquisite. Cæsar himself sent it me. Dip into it thy little red lips, that I may drain the cup.
SALOMÉ
I am not thirsty, Tetrarch.
HEROD
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

You hear how she answers me, this daughter of yours?

HERODIAS
She does right. Why are you always gazing at her?
HEROD
Bring me ripe fruits [fruits are brought]. Salomé, come and eat fruit with me. I love to see in a fruit the
mark of thy little teeth. Bite but a little of this fruit and then I will eat what is left.
SALOMÉ
I am not hungry, Tetrarch.
HEROD
[To Herodias.] You see how you have brought up this daughter of yours.
HERODIAS
My daughter and I come of a royal race. As for thee, thy father was a camel driver! He was also a robber!
HEROD
Thou liest!
HERODIAS
Thou knowest well that it is true.
HEROD
Salomé, come and sit next to me. I will give thee the throne of thy mother.
SALOMÉ
I am not tired, Tetrarch.
HERODIAS
You see what she thinks of you.
HEROD
Bring me—what is it that I desire? I forget. Ah! ah! I remember.
Concerning Messias who has come.
A JEW
Messiah hath not come.
FIRST NAZARENE
He hath come, and everywhere He worketh miracles.
HERODIAS Ho! ho! miracles! I do not believe in miracles. I have seen too many. [To the page.] My fan!
FIRST NAZARENE
This man worketh true miracles. Thus, at a marriage which took place in a little town of Galilee, a town
of some importance, He changed water into wine. Certain persons who were present related it to me. Also
He healed two lepers that were seated before the Gate of Capernaum simply by touching them.
SECOND NAZARENE
Nay, it was blind men that he healed at Capernaum.
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

FIRST NAZARENE
Nay; they were lepers. But He hath healed blind people also, and He was seen on a mountain talking with
angels.
A SADDUCEE
Angels do not exist.
A PHARISEE
Angels exist, but I do not believe that this Man has talked with them.
FIRST NAZARENE
He was seen by a great multitude of people talking with angels.
A SADDUCEE
Not with angels.
HERODIAS
How these men weary me! They are ridiculous! [To the page.] Well! my fan! [The page gives her the
fan.] You have a dreamer's look; you must not dream. It is only sick people who dream. [She strikes the
page with her fan.]
SECOND NAZARENE
There is also the miracle of the daughter of Jairus.
FIRST NAZARENE
Yes, that is sure. No man can gainsay it.
HERODIAS
These men are mad. They have looked too long on the moon. Command them to be silent.
HEROD
What is this miracle of the daughter of Jairus?
FIRST NAZARENE
The daughter of Jairus was dead. He raised her from the dead.
HEROD
He raises the dead?
FIRST NAZARENE
Yea, sire, He raiseth the dead.
HEROD
I do not wish Him to do that. I forbid Him to do that. I allow no man to raise the dead. This Man must be
found and told that I forbid Him to raise the dead. Where is this Man at present?
SECOND NAZARENE
He is in every place, my lord, but it is hard to find Him.
FIRST NAZARENE
It is said that He is now in Samaria.
SALOME by Oscar Wilde

A JEW
It is easy to see that this is not Messias, if He is in Samaria. It is not to the Samaritans that Messias shall
come. The Samaritans are accursed. They bring no offerings to the Temple.
SECOND NAZARENE
He left Samaria a few days since. I think that at the present moment He is in the neighbourhood of
Jerusalem.
FIRST NAZARENE
No; He is not there. I have just come from Jerusalem. For two months they have had no tidings of Him.
HEROD
No matter! But let them find Him, and tell Him from me, I will not allow him to raise the dead! To
change water into wine, to heal the lepers and the blind.... He may do these things if He will. I say nothing
against these things. In truth I hold it a good deed to heal a leper. But I allow no man to raise the dead. It
would be terrible if the dead came back.

HEROD
She is monstrous, thy daughter, she is altogether monstrous. In truth, what she has done is a great crime. I
am sure that it was a crime against an unknown God.
HERODIAS
I approve of what my daughter has done. And I will stay here now.
HEROD
[Rising].
Ah! There speaks the incestuous wife! Come! I will not stay here. Come, I tell thee. Surely some terrible
thing will befall. Manasseh, Issachar, Ozias, put out the torches. I will not look at things, I will not suffer
things to look at me. Put out the torches! Hide the moon! Hide the stars! Let us hide ourselves in our
palace, Herodias. I begin to be afraid.
[The slaves put out the torches. The stars disappear. A great black cloud crosses the moon and conceals
it completely. The stage becomes very dark. The Tetrarch begins to climb the staircase.]
THE VOICE OF SALOMÉ
Ah! I have kissed thy mouth, Jokanaan, I have kissed thy mouth. There was a bitter taste on thy lips. Was
it the taste of blood?... But perchance it is the taste of love.... They say that love hath a bitter taste.... But
what of that? what of that? I have kissed thy mouth, Jokanaan.
[A moonbeam falls on Salomé covering her with light.]
HEROD
[Turning round and seeing Salomé.]
Kill that woman!
[The soldiers rush forward and crush beneath their shields Salomé, daughter of Herodias, Princess of
Judæa.]
CURTAIN. (END)