Ask nothing.... Then look at him for the first time a long, smiling look, and ... ask nothing. After that thou mayest demand. SALOME [_Attentive._] What shall I demand, mother? A gold hair-ornament, or shoes of velvet? No; I know what I'll demand--a mirror. HERODIAS [_Passing her hand through Salome's hair._] Verily thou hast never felt hate to boil in thy breast, like love on a night in May? SALOME [_Feigning innocence._] No, mother. How should I? HERODIAS Thou hast never felt an insult coursing through thee, like burning, liquid fire? SALOME [_In the same tone._] No, mother; really I have not. HERODIAS Thou shalt demand no mirror, no hair-ornament, and no velvet shoes. But that the head of him they call John the Baptist shall be brought to thee on a dish. SALOME [_Setting her teeth, and controlling herself with difficulty._] On a golden dish? HERODIAS What dost thou say? Understandest thou me not or--who---- SALOME There's something else. One thing more I want to be sure of! Will _he_ know--that ... that Baptist, from whom the request cometh? HERODIAS [_Breaking out_] Certainly, he shall know! I will stand behind thy bloody trophy as thy will. SALOME [_Half to herself._] As the will of my will? HERODIAS I will grow over him, as the sword groweth forth from the sleeve of the executioner ... [_Trumpets sound._] Come! SALOME And I will grow over him like a sweet grapevine. [_Exeunt both, to right._] SCENE IV _Herod. Vitellius. Marcellus_ (_and other Romans of the Legate and suite_), _Merokles, Gabalos, Jabad._ HEROD Welcome to my table, exalted Vitellius, who bringest on the soles of thy feet the sacred soil of Rome into my poor dwelling. Welcome to you also, ye who follow him, according to Rome's command. She, our august mother, but ordereth what my soul desireth. VITELLIUS Thou hast my thanks, excellent prince. HEROD Repose now at thy pleasure, exalted one. [_They lie on the couches._] GABALOS [_Low._] Say, my brave Marcellus, how dost thou like this Jewish ear-wig? MARCELLUS It doth not find its way to our ears. HEROD And if thou wilt consent to crown thy brow with this wreath, as our Lord and Master, I shall be able to persuade myself that I am thy guest, instead of thou being mine. VITELLIUS Thou art _Rome's_ guest, Highness. Thus I will accept what befitteth me. [_Puts on the wreath which a servant hands to him._] GABALOS There was a sting in that speech. HEROD [_Quickly collecting himself._] My good Merokles, begin. MEROKLES [_Stands up and reads from a roll of parchment._] "Cooled by Hebron's far-gleaming snow, The fiery soul, concealed in ice, Favours with its flickering smile Us the worshippers. "So thou sendest forth twofold beams of silent light, So flames for us shoot forth from thy coldness, So we prize as sacred thy flickering smile, mighty Vitellius-- Till we----" VITELLIUS