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 Oh no! The Tetrarch sent him the ring. THE CAPPADOCIAN What ring? [Illustration: THE BLACK CAPE] 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 folk. THE CAPPADOCIAN I think it terrible. THE YOUNG SYRIAN The Princess rises! 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 Salomé_.] SALOMÉ 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. In truth, yes, I know it. THE YOUNG SYRIAN You have just left the feast, Princess? SALOMÉ How sweet the air is 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 twisted coils, and silent, subtle Egyptians, with long nails of jade and russett 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? Why do you look at her? Oh! something terrible will happen. SALOMÉ