莎乐美︰你会为我这样做的，奈拉伯斯，到了明天，当我的轿子通过大门时，我会为你抛下一朵小花，一朵绿色的小花。
年轻叙利亚军官︰公主，我不能，我不能违反命令。
莎乐美〔微笑〕︰你会为我这样做的，奈拉伯斯。你知道你会为我这样做。明天，当我的轿子通过大桥时，我会透过面纱望着你，我会看着你，奈拉伯斯，我会对你微笑。看着我，奈拉伯斯，看着我。啊！你知道你会满足我的要求。你心里十分清楚。……我知道你很乐意帮我。
年轻叙利亚军官〔向第三士兵示意〕︰让先知出来……莎乐美公主要见他。
莎乐美︰啊！
希罗底的侍从︰噢！月色多么怪异。你会认为这就像一个死去的女人，伸手找寻她的裹尸布。
年轻叙利亚军官︰她的面容怪异！她像个小公主，有一双琥珀色的双眼。虽然朦胧，但她的笑容却像一位小公主。
〔先知从水牢中走出。莎乐美看着他，缓缓地向后退了几步。〕
约翰︰那个杯中充满憎恶酒水的人在哪里？他在哪里，那个身穿银袍的人，最后将死在所有人的面前？叫他过来，如此一来他才可能脱离王宫的污秽，倾听他自己内心里的声音。
莎乐美︰他说的是谁？
年轻叙利亚军官︰您永远听不懂他的话，公主。
约翰︰那个渴视墙上男子画像的女人在哪里？她放弃自我，注目着石柱上加勒底（Caldea）人的画像，沈溺在她眼睛的欲念中，并派出使者到加勒底去。
莎乐美︰他在说我的母亲。
年轻叙利亚军官︰噢，不要理会他，公主。
莎乐美︰是的；他正在说我的母亲。
约翰︰那个委身于亚述首领的人在哪里？他们腰上配剑，头戴五彩的皇冠。那个委身于埃及年轻男子的人在哪里？他们身穿精致紫色麻衣，金色盾牌，银色头盔，身强力壮。叫她立刻从罪恶的温床里爬起，从乱伦的温床里爬起，如此一来，她才能听到为主铺路的人的声音，如此一来，她才能从不义之中改过自新。虽然她不会悔改，只会更加深陷在泥淖里；叫她过来，因为主的扇子已在祂的手里。
莎乐美︰太可怕了，他太可怕了！
年轻叙利亚军官︰不要待在这儿，公主，我恳求您。
莎乐美︰他的眼睛太可怕了。它们就像黑洞中燃烧的火炬。它们像龙穴的深渊。它们像埃及恶龙居所的黑暗洞窟。它们像奇异月光下的黑色湖水……你认为他会再说一遍吗？
年轻叙利亚军官︰不要待在这儿，公主，我求您不要待在这里。
莎乐美︰真是可惜！他就像是一尊洁白的象牙雕像。他身上映着银色的光辉。我确信他与月光一般贞洁，如同银色之箭。他的肉体必定如象牙一般冰冷。我愿走过去仔细瞧瞧。
年轻叙利亚军官︰不，不，公主。
莎乐美︰我一定要走过去瞧瞧。
年轻叙利亚军官︰公主！公主！
约翰︰向我走来的女子是谁？我不愿意他看着我。为何在她散着金粉的眼皮之下，用那双金色的眸子看着我？我不认识她。我不愿知道她是谁。叫她走开。我不与她说话。
莎乐美︰我叫莎乐美，希罗底的女儿，犹太王国的公主。
约翰︰退开！巴比伦之女！不准靠近主所选择的人。妳的母亲将不义染满了大地，她的罪孽已经传到神的耳里。
莎乐美︰求您再说，约翰。您的声音犹如酒一般的甜美。
年轻叙利亚军官︰公主！公主！公主！
莎乐美︰求您再说！再说一遍，约翰，告诉我应该怎么做。
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.
SALOME
Thou wilt 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 thee a little flower, a little green flower.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess, I cannot, I cannot.
SALOME
[Smiling.]
Thou wilt do this thing for me, Narraboth. Thou knowest that thou wilt do this thing for me. And on the morrow when I shall pass in my litter by the bridge of the idol-buyers, I will look at thee through the muslin veils, I will look at thee, Narraboth, it may be I will smile at thee. Look at me, Narraboth, look at me. Ah! thou knowest that thou wilt do what I ask of thee. Thou knowest it . . . . I know that thou wilt do this thing.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
[Signing to the third soldier.]
Let the prophet
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come forth . . . . The Princess Salome desires to see him.
SALOME
Ah!
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
Oh! How strange the moon looks! Like the hand of a dead woman who is seeking to cover herself with a shroud.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
She has a strange aspect! 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. Salome looks at him and steps slowly back.]
IOKANAAN
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.
SALOME
Of whom is he speaking?
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
No one can tell, Princess.
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IOKANAAN
Where is she who saw the images of men painted on the walls, even the images of the Chald?ans painted with colours, and gave herself up unto the lust of her eyes, and sent ambassadors into the land of Chald?a?
SALOME
It is of my mother that he is speaking.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Oh no, Princess.
SALOME
Yes: it is of my mother that he is speaking.
IOKANAAN
Where is she who gave herself unto the Captains of Assyria, who have baldricks on their loins, and crowns of many colours on their heads? Where is she who hath given herself to the young men of the Egyptians, who are clothed in fine linen and hyacinth, whose shields are of gold, whose helmets are of silver, whose bodies are mighty? Go, 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 not repent, but will stick fast in her abominations, go bid her come, for the fan of the Lord is in His hand.
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SALOME
Ah, but he is terrible, he is terrible!
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Do not stay here, Princess, I beseech you.
SALOME
It is his eyes above all that are terrible. They are like black holes burned by torches in a tapestry of Tyre. They are like the black caverns where the dragons live, 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.
SALOME
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 very cold, cold as ivory . . . . I would look closer at him.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
No, no, Princess!
SALOME
I must look at him closer.
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THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess! Princess!
IOKANAAN
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 desire to know who she is. Bid her begone, It is not to her that I would speak.
SALOME
I am Salome, daughter of Herodias, Princess of Jud?a.
IOKANAAN
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 sinning hath come up even to the ears of God.
SALOME
Speak again, Iokanaan. Thy voice is as music to mine ear.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN
Princess! Princess! Princess!
SALOME
Speak again! Speak again, Iokanaan, and tell me what I must do.