Rulers of civil state, and all the tribe
Of flatterers who bore the Herodian name.
Nor were there wanting guests uncircumcised,
Strangers of Rome from Capri late arrived
(Where now Tiberius, to his island home
From cares of State retreated, drained the cup
Of pleasure to the dregs, and made more short
Ignoble years), and Greeks, well-skilled to sing
In pleasing numbers, and, with practised hand,
To awake the tuneful lyre. Fair women graced
The festal banquet, not o’er quick to raise
Too high a moral standard where a King’
Was the chief sinner. Thus the feast was spread
With lavish hand; the loaded tables groaned
With far-fetched dainties, and Falernian wine
Filled high the beakers, while, in speech and song,
False flattery fawned and vanity believed.
And now the night grew late, and music raised
Her liveliest measures, as with merry feet
The dancers claimed the floor. Each vied with each
Whose graceful form and motion most might charm.
Now on the gaze of greatly-marvelling guests
Salome swept, fairest of all the fair,
The daughter of Herodias, in the prime
Of earliest loveliness, her head adorned
With fresh-culled roses, while a gauzy veil
But half-concealed her lithe and nymph-like form.
The tuneful strain uprose. With matchless grace
Her nimble feet kept time. In many a maze
Of complex figure she outvied them all.
Her task completed, on one knee she poised
Before the throne. The guests, with loud acclaim,
Sprang to their feet in drunken ecstasy,
Vowed her a goddess come to earth again,
Venus not lovelier, Hebe not more sweet,
Nor the divinest form which Grecian art
Had struck from Parian marble more divine,
While Herod, with great oaths, before them all
Bade her to choose her guerdon, nor to ask
Too mean a present, half his kingdom hers.
Then for a moment brief she paused, and glanced
To where her mother sat, obeyed the hand
Which beckoned her, obeyed the iron will
Which ruled her life, the prompting whisper heard,
Then trembling echoed it and cried : “O King!
I ask of thee to give me, in a dish,
The head of John the Baptist.” And the boon,
Thus craved, the King, although with sorrow struck,
Could not refuse. His evil oath, his guests
All eager round him, and the potent wine
Which dulled his conscience, all conspired to fix
His quick decision. Ere a single word
Was uttered more his fiat had gone forth.
The dungeon-door was opened, the sharp blade
Descended, and with awe the sobered court
Beheld the golden charger in the midst,
And on it laid the dreadful boon desired.
Herodias from her robe a bodkin took
And pierced the faithful tongue that had rebuked
Her evil life. The revel ceased in haste,
Awe filled the boldest as they understood
The plot and motive. When the morn arrived
Sorrowing disciples took the severed corpse,
And, loud lamenting, laid it in a tomb,
And brought their grief to Jesus.
