The leader signaled to his men, and the musicians began their lively playing, as the Arabian dancers came scampering again into the hollow square before the tables. Antipas sat down, rested his head on the palm of his left hand, and with his right reached for the glass.
“Soon now he’ll be very drunk, and we can escape,” Cornelius whispered to Claudia. “He’s still afraid of the Wilderness preacher, and he will try to drown his fears in wine.”
“But he just ordered the fellow back to the dungeon.”
“He also fears Herodias. He’ll free John, though, as soon as he can do so without his wife’s knowing about it.”
The tempo of the music was increasing, and the women, refreshed by the long intermission they had been having and the food and wine they had been served, were fast approaching a frenzy of abandon in their wild convolutions and sensual writhings. For a few moments the jaded Tetrarch, watching the brazenly lewd gyrations of the dancing women, appeared to be gaining renewed stimulation. But quickly his interest faded; he sat up on his couch and straightened himself. “Hold!” he commanded, waving his hand aloft. “Enough of this. We are surfeited on dark women.”
The music stopped. “Let them go,” said Antipas, nodding toward the leader of the musicians. The man bowed to the Tetrarch and, turning, waved his dismissal to the dancers, who went tripping out. Once again the great triclinium was as still and the guests as suddenly silent as they had been at the dramatic entrance of the gaunt prophet.
Now the Tetrarch, beaming, looked to his left beyond his Tetrarchess. “It is our wish that our beloved daughter Salome honor our birthday by dancing for the Tetrarch and his guests,” he declared in honeyed tones. “Will you not dance for us, my dear child?”
Cornelius leaned forward to watch Herodias’ daughter. Salome seemed amazed at her stepfather’s request. “But, Sire,” she ventured to protest, as she turned on her couch to face the unctuously smiling Tetrarch, “doesn’t my dear father know that I am not a dancer? Surely he prefers the dancing of women trained in the art.” She shook her head firmly. “Sire, I would not wish to display before this company just how poorly....”
“Oh come now, my child, your dancing will delight the Tetrarch and his guests. Do not let maidenly modesty deny us the pleasure of seeing you perform.” The Tetrarch’s eyes were beginning to flame. “We would delight in your dancing, my dear. After all that dark flesh, a flashing before us of firm, white, youthful....”