SALOMÉ: I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan.
THE YOUNG SYRIAN: Ah!
He kills himself and falls between SALOMÉ and JOKANAAN.
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS: The young Syrian has slain himself! The young captain has slain himself! He has slain himself who was my friend! I gave him a little box of perfumes and ear-rings wrought in silver, and now he has killed himself! Ah, did he not foretell that some misfortune would happen? I, too, foretold it, and it has happened. Well, I knew that the moon was seeking a dead thing, but I knew not that it was he whom she sought. Ah! why did I not hide him from the moon? If I had hidden him in a cavern she would not have seen him.
FIRST SOLDIER: Princess, the young captain has just killed himself.
SALOMÉ: Let me kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan.
JOKANAAN: Art thou not afraid, daughter of Herodias? Did I not tell thee that I had heard in the palace the beating of the wings of the angel of death, and hath he not come, the angel of death?
SALOMÉ: Let me kiss thy mouth.
JOKANAAN: Daughter of adultery, there is but one who can save thee, it is He of whom I spake. Go seek Him. He is in a boat on the sea of Galilee, and He talketh with His disciples. Kneel down on the shore of the sea, and call unto Him by his name. When he cometh to thee (and to all who call on Him He cometh) bow thyself at His feet and ask of Him the remission of thy sins.
SALOMÉ: Let me kiss thy mouth.
JOKANAAN: Cursed be thou! Daughter of an incestuous mother, be thou accursed!
SALOMÉ: I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan.
JOKANAAN: I do not wish to look at thee. I will not look at thee, thou art accursed, Salomé, thou art accursed.
He goes down into the Cistern.
SALOMÉ: I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan. I will kiss thy mouth.
FIRST SOLDIER: We must bear away the body to another place. The Tetrarch does not care to see dead bodies, save the bodies of those whom he himself has slain.
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS: He was my brother, nearer to me than a brother. I gave him a little box of perfumes, and a ring of agate that he wore always on his hand. In the evening we used to walk by the river, among the almond trees, and he would tell me of the things of his country. He spake ever very low. The sound of his voice was like the sound of the flute, of a flute player. Also he much loved to gaze at himself in the river. I used to reproach him for that.
