John the Baptist: A Play

_Maecha, Miriam, Abi_ [_on the balcony_]. _After them, Salome._

THE DAMSELS

[_Stepping cautiously and listening._]

Salome. [_Through the door._] Is it safe? No one there?

Maecha. Not a sound of anyone.

Salome. Then, come! [_They skip down the stairs._]

Salome. Ah, here it is light, and one can see oneself reflected in the walls. Do you know why we have been suddenly mewed up in the apartments above? Yesterday we were allowed to wander as we listed through all the passages, to dance unveiled in the gardens, and peep through the railings and mock the passers-by. But to-day, since my uncle came, we have had to sit moping in sackcloth and ashes. Why? Do none of you know why?

Maecha. Mistress, the house is now filled with strangers who were not here yesterday. And, it is said that the men who are in the Tetrarch's following run after young maidens.

Salome. Let them! I am not afraid of any men.... I take them as I find them.... I love them.

Abi. Thou knowest men, mistress?

Salome. I mean not the men of our own people! They wear beards on their chins like forests, and before one can look round, they stand there barefooted, and then people say---- No; I mislike that. But once, when I was with my father in Antioch, I met pale youths with golden brown hair, and they wore red shoes and smelt of perfumes.... They were Greeks, my father said, real Greeks from Hellas.... They smiled, and it made me thrill.... Why dost thou stand there sulking, Miriam, and listenest not to my converse? It doth not please thee? Laugh, or I'll beat thee. If thou laughest not, I'll have thee whipped!

Miriam. Let me be whipped, mistress.

Salome. Where wert thou last night? The palace guards said thou wouldst visit thy sweetheart.... Thou hast a lover? [_Roguishly._] Whisper his name in my ear and I'll give thee a gold pin.

Miriam. I have no one that loveth me, mistress.

Salome. The language of you Judeans hath an insipid flavour, and your eyes dissemble. Yet, I love Jerusalem. A purple haze hangs over its gables. And it seemeth to me ever as if the sun in Jerusalem kissed one secretly. But ye could not understand how that is ... ye have not the blood of the great Herod in your veins. My mother hath it, and I have it from her.... And whatever they may say in Jerusalem, my mother was wise to run away from that other husband, for the one here is of more account than he. And because she was so wise, and at the same time so sadly foolish, I love her, and will share the consequences of her folly. [_She flings herself on the couch._] I am not displeasing to my uncle Herod.... I have remarked that he casts stolen glances at me.... Now when my mother scolds me I shall know how to tease her! [_Trills forth._] I am the Rose of Sharon, a flower of the valley. Cometh not my friend into his garden to eat of---- Miriam, where does that window look out?

Miriam. I do not know, mistress. I have never been in this hall before.

Salome. Go and see.

Miriam. [_Looks out of the window and starts._]

Salome. Why dost thou start?

Miriam. Did I, mistress?

Salome. Tell me what thou seest?

Miriam. There are many people standing round a fountain, and----

Salome. And?

Miriam. I cannot----

Salome. [_Stands up and goes to window._] Ah! [_Looking out for a moment in silence._] Miriam, who is that?

Miriam. [_Confused._] Whom dost thou mean, mistress?

Salome. Is there anyone else but him?... Miriam, thou gentle, brown Miriam [_half threateningly_], deny him not!

Miriam. It is--John--the Baptist.

ABI, MAECHA

[_Hurrying up, all curiosity._] The Baptist?

Salome. Let him be who he be. See how the people surge round him! Have ye ever in your valley seen a rock bend? He doth not bend. Ha! ha! Not he! Only if--perhaps---- [_She stretches out her arms._]