Salome Monologue Essay Research Paper Example For Students

Salome Monolog Essay Research Paper A monolog from the play by Oscar Wilde NOTE: This monolog is reproduced from Representative One-Act Plays by British and Irish Authors. Ed. Barrett H. Clark. Boston: Little, Brown, and Co., 1921. SALOME: I am desirous of thy body, Iokanaan! Thy body is white, similar to the lilies of the field that the cutter hath never cut. Thy body is white like the snows that lie on the mountains of Judaea, and descend into the valleys. The roses in the nurseries of the Queen of Arabia are not all that white as thy body. Neither the roses in the nursery of the Queen of Arabia, the nursery of flavors of the Queen of Arabia, nor the feet of the day break when they light on the leaves, nor the bosom of the moon when she lies on the bosom of the ocean. There is nothing in this world so white as they body. Endure me to contact thy body. Thy body is terrible. It resembles the body of a pariah. It resembles a put divider, where snakes have slithered; like a put divider where the scorpions have made their home. It resembles a whited tomb, brimming with evil things. It is terrible; thy body is loathsome. It is of thy hair I am captivated, Iokanaan. Thy hair resembles groups of grapes, similar to th e bunches of dark grapes that swing from the vine-trees of Edom in the place that is known for the Edomites. Thy hair resembles the cedars of Lebanon, similar to the incredible cedars of Lebanon that give their shade to the lions and to the looters who might conceal them by day. The long dark evenings, when the moon shrouds her face, when the stars are apprehensive, are not all that dark as thy hair. The quietness that stays in the timberland isn't so dark. There is nothing on the planet that is so dark as thy hair. Endure me to contact thy hair. Thy hair is appalling. It is secured with soil and residue. It resembles a crown of thistles set on thy head. It resembles a bunch of snakes wound round thy neck. I love not thy hair. It is thy mouth that I want, Iokanaan. Thy mouth resembles a band of red on a pinnacle of ivory. It resembles a pomegranate cut in twain with a blade of ivory. The pomegranate blossoms that bloom in the nurseries of Tire, and are redder than roses, are not all that red. The red impacts of trumpets that messenger the methodology of lords, and make apprehensive the adversary, are not all that red. Thy mouth is redder than the feet of the individuals who track the wine in the wine-press. It is redder than the feet of the pigeons who occupy the sanctuaries and are taken care of by the clerics. It is redder than the feet of him who cometh from a timberland where he hath killed a lion, and seen plated tigers. Thy mouth resembles a part of coral that fishers have found in the dusk of the ocean, the coral that they save for the rulers! It resembles the vermilion that the Moabites find in the mines of Moab, the vermilion that the lords take from them. It resembles the bow of the King of the Persians, that is spoiled with vermilion, and is tipped with coral. There is nothing on the planet so red as thy mouth. Endure me to kiss thy mouth. I will kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan. I will kiss thy mouth.