And wherefore doth he not address his discourse at all to her, but to the man? Because it depended more on him.
But see how inoffensive he makes his accusation, as relating a history rather than bringing a charge.
4. "But when Herod's birth-day was kept," saith he, "the daughter of Herodias danced before them, and pleased Herod." O diabolical revel! O satanic spectacle! O lawless dancing! and more lawless reward for the dancing. For a murder more impious than all murders was perpetrated, and he that was worthy to be crowned and publicly honored, was slain in the midst, and the trophy of the devils was set on the table.
And the means too of the victory were worthy of the deeds done. For,
"The daughter of Herodias," it is said, "danced in the midst, and pleased Herod. Whereupon he swore with an oath to give her whatsoever she would ask. And she being before instructed of her mother, said, Give me here John Baptist's head in a charger."
Her reproach is twofold; first, that she danced, then that she pleased him, and so pleased him, as to obtain even murder for her re ward.
Seest thou how savage he was? how senseless? how foolish? in putting himself under the obligation of an oath, while to her he gives full power over her request. But when he saw the evil actually ensuing, "he was sorry," it is said; and yet in the first instance he had put him in bonds. Wherefore then is he sorry? Such is the nature of virtue, even amongst the wicked admiration and praises are its due. But alas for her madness! When she too ought to admire, yea, to bow down to him, for trying to redress her wrong, she on the contrary even helps to arrange the plot, and lays a snare, and asks a diabolical favor.
But he was afraid "for the oath's sake," it is said, "and them that sat at meat with him." And how didst thou not fear that which is more grievous? Surely if thou wast afraid to have witnesses of thy perjury, much more oughtest thou to fear having so many witnesses of a murder so lawless.
But as I think many are ignorant of the grievance itself, whence the murder had its origin, I must declare this too, that ye may learn the wisdom of the lawgiver. What then was the ancient law, which Herod indeed trampled on, but John vindicated? The wife of him that died childless was to be given to his brother. For since death was an incurable ill, and all was contrived for life's sake; He makes a law that the living brother should marry her, and should call the child that is born by the name of the dead, so that his house should not utterly perish. For if the dead were not so much as to leave children, which is the greatest mitigation of death, the sorrow would be without remedy. Therefore you see, the lawgiver devised this refreshment for those who were by nature deprived of children, and commanded the issue to be reckoned as belonging to the other.
But when there was a child, this marriage was no longer permitted. "And wherefore?" one may say, "for if it was lawful for another, much more for the brother." By no means. For He will have men's consanguinity extended, and the sources multiplied of our interest in each other.
Why then, in the case also of death without offspring, did not another marry her? Because it would not so be accounted the child of the departed; but now his brother begetting it, the fiction became probable. And besides, any other man had no constraining call to build up the house of the dead, but this had incurred the claim by relationship.
Forasmuch then as Herod had married his brother's wife, when she had a child, therefore John blames him, and blames him with moderation, showing together with his boldness, his consideration also.
But mark thou, I pray thee, how the whole theatre was devilish. For first, it was made up of drunkenness and luxury, whence nothing healthful could come. Secondly, the spectators in it were depraved, and he that gave the banquet the worst transgressor of all. Thirdly, there was the irrational pleasure. Fourthly, the damsel, because of whom the marriage was illegal, who ought even to have hid herself, as though her mother were dishonored by her, comes making a show, and throwing into the shade all harlots, virgin as she was.
And the time again contributes no little to the reproof of this enormity. For when he ought to be thanking God, that on that day He had brought him to light, then he ventures upon those lawless acts. When one in chains ought to have been freed by him, then he adds slaughter to bonds.
Hearken, ye virgins, or rather ye wives also, as many as consent to such unseemliness at other person's weddings, leaping, and bounding, and disgracing our common nature. Hearken, ye men too, as many as follow after those banquets, full of expense and drunkenness, and fear ye the gulf of the evil one. For indeed so mightily did he seize upon that wretched person just then, that he sware even to give the half of his kingdom: this being Mark's statement, "He sware unto her, Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me, I will give it thee, unto the half of my kingdom."
Such was the value he set upon his royal power; so was he once for all made captive by his passion, as to give up his kingdom for a dance.
And why marvel at these things so happening then, since even now, after the coming in of so high a wisdom, for a dance' sake many of these effeminate young men give up their very souls, and that without constraint of any oath? For being made captive by the pleasure, they are led like sheep, wheresoever the wolf may drag them; which was then the case with that frenzied man, who was guilty of two extreme acts of madness; first, in making it depend on her that was so maddened, and intoxicated with her passion, and shrinking from nothing; next, in making the deed fast with the constraint of an oath.
5. But albeit he was so wicked, that base woman was more wicked than all of them, both the damsel and the tyrant. For she was the very first contriver of all the mischiefs, and the framer of the whole plot (she who most of all ought to have been thankful to the prophet); since it was in obedience to her that her daughter both disgraced herself, and danced, and sought the murder; and Herod was entrapped by her.
Seest thou how justly Christ said, "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." For had she kept this law, she would not have trangressed so many laws, she would not have perpetrated this foul murder.
For what could be worse than this brutal fierceness? to ask a murder by way of a favor, a lawless murder, a murder in the midst of a banquet, a murder publicly, and without shame? Since she went not unto him privately to speak of these things, but publicly, and with her mask thrown off, barefaced, and having got the devil to plead with her, in this guise she saith whatever she saith. Yea, and he it was that caused her at all to get credit by her dancing, and to catch Herod at that moment. For where dancing is, there is the evil one. For neither did God give us feet for this end, but that we may walk orderly: not that we may behave ourselves unseemly, not that we may jump like camels (for even they too are disagreeable when dancing, much more women), but that we may join the choirs of angels.
For if the body is base, thus making itself unseemly, much more the soul. Like this is the dancing of the demons, like this, the jesting of such as are servants of the demons.
And mark too the very mode of asking. "Give me here John Baptist's head in a charger." Dost thou see her lost to all shame, become altogether the devil's? She mentions his very office, and not even so does she hide her face, but as if it were some viand she is speaking of, just so doth she ask for that sacred and blessed head to be brought in in a charger.
And she doth not so much as assign a cause, for neither had she one to mention, but she claims simply to be complimented by the calamities of others. And she said not, "Bring him in here, and slay him," for she could not have endured his bold language even when he was about to die. Yea, and she dreaded to hear his awful voice, even when enduring slaughter; for not on the very point of being beheaded would he have kept silence. Therefore she saith, "Give me here in a charger," for "I long to see that tongue silent:" her object being, not simply to be rid of his reproofs, but also to trample upon him, and deride him when fallen.
Yet God endured it, and neither discharged His thunderbolt from above to scorch her shameless countenance, nor commanded the earth to open, and receive that wicked revel; at once both crowning the righteous man more signally, and leaving much consolation to them that hereafter suffer anything unjustly.
6. Let us hearken therefore, as many as suffer ill, living in virtue, at the hands of wicked men. For then too God endured that even he in the wilderness, he in the leathern girdle, in the garment of hair, the prophet, the man greater than all prophets, who had no superior among those born of women, should actually be murdered, and that by an immodest damsel, and a corrupt harlot, and all in vindicating the laws of God. These things then let us consider, and bear all nobly, whatever we may suffer.