to a tale by Flaubert. The scene is
laid upon a terrace of Herod's palace, where soldiers are keeping watch
while the king holds revel within. Salome, the daughter of Herodias,
issues from the banquet chamber, troubled by Herod's gaze. The voice of
Jochanaan (John the Baptist), who is imprisoned in a cistern hard by, is
heard. Salome bids Narraboth, a young Assyrian, bring him forth. Dragged
from his living tomb, Jochanaan denounces the wickedness of Herodias,
but Salome has no ears for his curses. Fascinated by the strange beauty
of the prophet, she pours forth her passion in wild accents. Jochanaan
repulses her and retreats once more to his cistern. Herod and Herodias
now come forth from the banquet, and Herod bids Salome dance. She
extorts a promise from him that he will give her whatever she asks, even
to the half of his kingdom, and dances the dance of the seven veils. The
dance over, she demands the head of Jochanaan. Herod pleads with her in
vain, the executioner is sent into the cistern and the head of Jochanaan
is brought in upon a silver charger. Salome kisses the lifeless lips,
but Herod in wrath and horror cries to his soldiers: 'Kill this woman,'
and as the curtain falls she is crushed beneath their shields. Strauss
is the stormy petrel of modern music, and 'Salome' has aroused more
discussion than anything he has written. Many critics quite the reverse
of prudish have found its ethics somewhat difficult of digestion, while
conservative musicians hold up their hands in horror at its harmonic
audacity. The more advanced spirits find a strange exotic beauty in the
weird harmonies and infinitely suggestive orchestration, and contend
with some justice that a work of art must be judged as such, not as an
essay in didactic morality. The 'Salome' question may well be left for
time to settle, more especially as the subject and treatment of the work
combine to put its production upon the London stage beyond the limits of
immediate probability.

In modern times Singspiel has for the most part become merged in comic
opera, which, though originally an importation from France, has become
thoroughly acclimatised in Germany, and in the hands of such men as
Johann Strauss, Franz von Suppe, and Carl Milloecker, has produced work
of no little artistic interest, though scarcely coming within the scope
of this book. To the Singspiel, too, may be traced an exceedingly
unpretentious school of opera, dealing for the most part wit