Eight negro slaves are discovered grouped about the column and its grim burden. Their woolly pates are white, white ostrich plumes are girt about their middles, and round their ankles are clasped what look suspiciously like white spats. The limelight streaming on their naked bodies imparts a greenish tinge to the brown flesh, and gives them quite as nasty an appearance as one supposes their designers intended.
To strident music which one feels sure must be expressive of hectic passion and horror, the green and white negroes posture
and run about the stage. Their antics are engaging, and expressive of just whatever the spectator chooses to think. They are joined presently by four executioners who would do credit to any professional dreamer of nightmares. Like the negroes, these also have spats on their bare legs. They wear very little else, but carry large swords which obviously are meant for dark and bloody deeds. They are tall and lank, frightfully grim, and thoroughly sinister. And the business-like manner in which, having divested themselves of the awful weapons of their office, and completely eclipsed the efforts of the negroes in the game of Here-we-go-round-the-Baptist’s-head, they assume attitudes of terror-striking unexpectedness, indicates a praiseworthy determination to uphold the ghastliest traditions of their high calling.
The music now, with relentless importunacy, insists upon an impending climax. Negroes and executioners fall beautifully into place, a portion of the blackcloth drops swiftly, and Salome is seen standing on the top of the staircase-pedestal before a dim background of blue and mysterious starlit depth. She is shrouded in the voluminous folds of an immense cloak, and at first sight might be taken, as a witty observer remarked, for Mrs. Grundy come to put a stop to the proceedings.
Having got this climax over, the music is now breathing more easily, and Salome slowly comes down the staircase. It is seen that the robe with which she is covered has an immense train—black with glittering embroidery of gold. As she descends the steps the train drags magnificently behind her. One suffers an uncomfortable anxiety lest it should topple down before its time and sweep its hapless wearer off her feet. But MM. Soudeikine and Romanov have seen to this, and it is not until Salome has reached the stage, and is already advancing across it, that the enormous garment, with proper effect, comes flashingly tumbling after.
Salome with her grotesque retinue circles in solemn procession round the central column, and the train makes the most of its opportunities. Then the negroes leap forward, fastenings are loosened, and as the robe falls into her attendants’ outstretched arms, Salome steps forward for the dance.
Regard Beardsley’s drawings as fashion plates, and the reader will arrive at a very fair idea of Karsavina’s appearance as Salome. Her costume is exiguous—even allowing for the lace-edged undergarment which appears round one thigh but not round the other. Her legs and arms are bare, but with a blood red heart and other devices stencilled on them. A high head-dress surmounts the tiny