The Daughter of Herodias.
St Matt. chap. xiv. ver. 6, &c.
Vain, sinful Art! I who first did fit
Thy lewd, loath'd Motions unto sounds,
And made grave Musique, like wilde wit,
Erre in loose airs beyond her bounds;—
What fires hath he brought on his head!
Since to his sins, as needs it must.
His Art adds still, though he be dead.
New, fresh accounts of blood and lust.
Leave then[1], young Sorceress; the Ice
Will those coy spirits cast asleep.
Which teach thee now to please[2] his eyes
Who doth thy lothsome mother keep.
But thou hast pleas'd so well, he swears.
And gratifies thy sin with ows, I
His shameless lust in publick wears.
And to thy soft arts fondly bows.
Skilful enchantress, and true bred!
Who out of evil can bring good?
Thy mother's nets in thee were spread,
She tempts to incest, thou to blood.[Silex Scintillans, p. 163.]
Here is the legend of Ishoʿdad, in a somewhat modified form, and I can believe the reader to be as much puzzled as myself to determine the origin of the tradition. Let us see if we can do anything to elucidate the matter. Henry Vaughan can hardly have been reading Ishoʿdad; and indeed his version of the decollation of Salome is simpler than that of the Syrian father. Vaughan is, however, a man of some Oriental erudition. In his verses on St Mary Magdalen we have the following lines:
'This dusky state of sighs and tears
Durst not look on those smiling years.
When Magdal-castle was thy seat.
Where all was sumptuous, rare and neat.
Why lies this hair despised now
Which once thy care and art did show ?
Who then did dress the much lov'd toy
In spires, globes, angry cuds and coy?'
