|
In Athens, Pandion ruled the state, |
|
A generous, courtly potentate. |
|
Of all in life that gave him pleasure, |
| 4 |
His daughters were his greatest treasure: |
|
Philomena, the younger one, |
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And Procne, whose hand had just been won. |
|
Her father heard with much good grace |
| 8 |
A proposal from the king of Thrace. |
|
What made him glad of such a plan?[1] |
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He thought he'd found a worthy man, |
|
A king! A king? It is a shame |
| 12 |
To call him that. The tyrant's name |
|
Was Tereus. Without debate, |
|
Pandion set the wedding date. |
|
With evil omens they were wed: |
| 16 |
Hymen, the god who should have led |
|
The ceremonies, did not come; |
|
The chanting priests were as if struck dumb; |
|
No one at all seemed to rejoice. |
| 20 |
Procne and Tereus heard the voice |
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Of an owl screeching near their room |
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All night, and other portents of doom |
|
Were there: barn owl, cuckoo, crow- |
| 24 |
Not a good sign. These omens show |
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There'll be no way to find relief |
|
From hardship that must come, and grief. |
|
In an evil hour they were wed: |
| 28 |
Through the palace where they lay in bed, |
|
Demons flew with Tesiphone |
|
And Atropos, horrors waiting to be.[2] |
|
Tereus did not choose to stay |
| 32 |
After the wedding; he sailed away, |
|
Back to Thrace with his noble wife, |
|
His queen. There she would live her life. |
|
And there was born to them a son- |
| 36 |
Better by far if they'd had none! |
|
Throughout the kingdom there was joy |
|
Upon the birth of the royal boy, |
|
And each year an extravagant |
| 40 |
Festival, as for Tervagant,[3] |
|
Was held by Tereus's decree. |
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So well did the baby thrive that he |
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Was beautiful by the age of five. |
| 44 |
Alas! He would not stay alive |
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Much longer! Itis was his name. |
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Soon I will tell you what became |
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Of this child, how he met his fate, |
| 48 |
But first I've something else to relate. |
|
Procne had, by my reckoning, |
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Been more than five years with the king, |
|
And she was longing to see her sister, |
| 52 |
Philomena; she truly missed her. |
|
For quite some time she did not mention |
|
Anything of her intention- |
|
She was reluctant, lest it grieve |
| 56 |
Her husband that she wished to leave. |
|
At last she could not hold her peace; |
|
She said she wanted to go to Greece, |
|
Asking for the king's permission |
| 60 |
To visit her sister, on condition |
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That she would not be long away. |
|
If he refused, she would obey |
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But ask that he go in her place |
| 64 |
And bring Philomena back to Thrace. |
|
He answered that Procne must remain |
|
At home, that she must not complain, |
|
Since he, whatever the trip required, |
| 68 |
Was willing to do as she desired. |
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And so, as Tereus decreed, |
|
All the provisions he would need |
|
Were quickly readied for the trip, |
| 72 |
The mast and sails put on each ship. |
|
Soon it was done. He went on board, |
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And many with him. Procne implored |
|
Her husband to bring her sister back |
| 76 |
As soon as he could. The sails were slack, |
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But at sea they filled, the ropes strained tight, |
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And all day long and all the night, |
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Steering by the stars, they sailed. |
| 80 |
Good winds and peaceful seas prevailed, |
|
Alas! On a straight course they steered- |
|
If only something had interfered! |
|
Fate would have shown a kinder face, |
| 84 |
Had Procne kept the king in Thrace; |
|
Great sorrow came because he went. |
|
Quickly a messenger was sent |
|
To give King Pandion the report |
| 88 |
That ships had come into his port. |
|
As soon as the king was made aware |
|
That his own son-in-law was there, |
|
Wanting to see him, he didn't waste |
| 92 |
A moment. Pandion left in haste, |
|
Met Tereus at the landing place, |
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And kissed his eyes and mouth and face |
|
In joyful greeting. That being done, |
| 96 |
He saluted all the rest as one |
|
And led them toward his city. The king |
|
Was eager to know everything |
|
About his daughter and the boy. |
| 100 |
Were they happy? Did they enjoy |
|
Good health? All at home was well, |
|
Tereus was quick to tell, |
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And both sent him their love from Thrace. |
| 104 |
Then he began to state his case, |
|
Explaining what his visit meant: |
|
"And yet your daughter is not content, |
|
Sire; it has been too long a time |
| 108 |
Since she's seen Philomena. I'm |
|
Here as Procne's messenger, |
|
And I hope, as you are fond of her, |
|
That you will listen to her plea |
| 112 |
And send Philomena home with me. |
|
I know you will sorely feel the lack, |
|
And will want her to come quickly back- |
|
Too long it would seem were she to stay |
| 116 |
Just one hour or a single day- |
|
And so I solemnly do swear |
|
That as soon as winds are blowing fair |
|
To speed her safely on her way, |
| 120 |
I will make sure she does not stay; |
|
I'll bring her back. But I've been treated |
|
Badly when I've not yet been greeted |
|
By your daughter; that's a sad surprise." |
| 124 |
And suddenly, there before his eyes |
|
Stood Philomena, her hair undone- |
|
She didn't look like a cloistered nun! |
|
She had come quickly from inside. |
| 128 |
Greater writers than I have tried |
|
To portray such beauty. I will need |
|
A miracle or I won't succeed. |
|
To tell of her loveliness and grace, |
| 132 |
Her fair body, her radiant face, |
|
Would take more skill than that of Plato, |
|
Or of Homer, or of Cato,[4] |
|
Who for their wisdom were acclaimed; |
| 136 |
So I don't have to feel ashamed |
|
If I can't manage it in this work. |
|
I'll do my best, and I will not shirk. |
|
Now I've begun, I won't be deterred; |
| 140 |
For what I say, try to take my word. |
|
The beauty of her head will be told |
|
First of all: like the purest gold |
|
Gleaming bright was her lovely hair. |
| 144 |
God had fashioned her so fair |
|
That I think had Nature undertaken |
|
Improvement, she'd have been mistaken. |
|
Her unlined forehead was broad and white; |
| 148 |
Rivaling jewels, her eyes were bright; |
|
Her wide-spaced brows were finely made, |
|
Needing no artificial aid. |
|
Long and straight was her perfect nose; |
| 152 |
Her cheeks mingled lilies and the rose. |
|
Her lips were red enough: they vied |
|
With scarlet samite freshly dyed; |
|
Her mouth was full and made for mirth. |
| 156 |
Spice, balm, and incense are not worth |
|
The fragrance of her breathing. All |
|
Her teeth were white, closely spaced, and small. |
|
Her chin and neck, her lovely throat, |
| 160 |
Were whiter than an ermine's coat; |
|
Her tiny breasts were like a pair |
|
Of little apples. White and fair, |
|
Her hands were long to the fingertips; |
| 164 |
Her waist slender, low-set her hips; |
|
And, to summarize, the rest, |
|
In all its aspects, was the best |
|
Ever seen by human eyes, |
| 168 |
For Nature in this enterprise |
|
Had really worked as hard as she could.[5] |
|
Philomena understood |
|
So many things that I can swear |
| 172 |
She was as wise as she was fair, |
|
Truly learned. She knew all sorts |
|
Of entertaining games and sports- |
|
More than the men best known to us, |
| 176 |
Like Tristan or Apollonius.[6] |
|
Both chess and backgammon she could play, |
|
"Six and Ace" from an earlier day, |
|
And "Buffet and Battle." She was adored[7] |
| 180 |
And wooed by many a noble lord, |
|
She was such delightful company. |
|
She was excellent at falconry, |
|
With peregrine and sparrow hawk |
| 184 |
And even lanners, though they balk;[8] |
|
Falcons, tercels, goshawks-all three |
|
She brought through their molts. She loved to be[9] |
|
Out hawking close to a river's shore |
| 188 |
Or in the field. Yet no one had more |
|
Talent for working cloth dyed rich |
|
Crimson; she had the skill to stitch |
|
Figured silk or fine brocade |
| 192 |
And ghostly Hellequins portrayed |
|
In beautifully colored thread.[10] |
|
Skilled in language too, well-read, |
|
The maiden could write both verse and prose, |
| 196 |
And she could perform, as she chose, |
|
Music on psaltery or lyre. |
|
Who has the art it would require |
|
To tell all her talents? She could play |
| 200 |
The vielle to accompany a lai-[11] |
|
There wasn't a tune she did not know- |
|
And when she talked her words were so |
|
Full of wisdom, she could teach |
| 204 |
Without a book, just through her speech. |
|
And now, her face rosy and bright, |
|
She came toward her father, in a samite |
|
Tunic that was tightly laced. |
| 208 |
From the moment Tereus embraced |
|
And greeted her, and they had kissed, |
|
He was quite unable to resist |
|
Her beauty: it was like a dart |
| 212 |
That struck him deep within the heart. |
|
Evil love that came unbidden |
|
Caused him to hope for things forbidden, |
|
Desires terrible and mad. |
| 216 |
Evil love? Yes! Love can be bad; |
|
Vilely indeed was he inspired |
|
When his wife's sister he desired. |
|
Had his own sister been the attraction, |
| 220 |
He could have taken any action. |
|
Pagans to all desires could yield; |
|
Their joys could remain quite unconcealed, |
|
A god having long since decreed- |
| 224 |
So it was established in their creed- |
|
That love of a sister was permitted. |
|
Tereus would have been acquitted- |
|
Because, by law, it was his right |
| 228 |
To take her for his heart's delight- |
|
If someone brought it to a trial. |
|
No matter how scandalous and vile |
|
His pleasures were, they could not say |
| 232 |
He had done wrong in any way. |
|
But that's enough about pagan law![12] |
|
Who, among humans, ever saw |
|
Any power over Love's prevail? |
| 236 |
In an evil hour did Tereus sail |
|
To take Philomena out of Greece. |
|
Now Love has put an end to peace; |
|
He has been tricked and brought to shame, |
| 240 |
His heart on fire with that flame |
|
That is so easily ignited. |
|
Tereus, utterly delighted |
|
To hold the maiden in his embrace, |
| 244 |
Makes a speech that is full of grace: |
|
"My dear, I'm your sister's messenger. |
|
I bring you fondest greetings from her. |
|
She misses you. She is quite bereft; |
| 248 |
It's been such a long time since she left. |
|
If she could see you, she'd rejoice. |
|
And to her plea I add my voice, |
|
For what it may be worth; if my prayer |
| 252 |
Were answered, you would soon be there. |
|
This is all that Procne prays for: |
|
To hold you in her arms once more. |
|
And, in truth, she herself would be |
| 256 |
Here with you now, had she been free. |
|
Her great desire was to come in quest |
|
Of you on her own, but that request |
|
I refused. I would not let her depart, |
| 260 |
In spite of the hunger in her heart; |
|
I forced her to stay. Your sister seeks |
|
To have you with her for just two weeks. |
|
I hope I've not journeyed uselessly! |
| 264 |
If you ask the king, he must agree |
|
That it would be only fair and right |
|
To let you go and bring delight |
|
To your sister in that distant place. |
| 268 |
She let me know, when I left Thrace, |
|
That if I failed in my mission here, |
|
She would no longer hold me dear. |
|
I'd rather be feeble, bald, and old |
| 272 |
Than have her love for me turn cold! |
|
Tell your father that, by his grace, |
|
You'd like to come with me to Thrace." |
|
But to this, Philomena replies, |
| 276 |
Being, as I have said, most wise: |
|
"Sire, how could any words I say |
|
Compare to yours? If you want to sway[13] |
|
My father, you would have more chance |
| 280 |
If you spoke first-at least in France |
|
That is the custom. Those who crave |
|
Boons, if they're competent and brave, |
|
Should try to achieve their own desires, |
| 284 |
Whatever effort this requires! |
|
After that, if they don't succeed, |
|
Another person may intercede." |
|
"Demoiselle, that may all be true, |
| 288 |
But one small point eluded you; |
|
You have forgotten just one thing: |
|
Perhaps I've already asked the king." |
|
"Indeed! That proves how little wit |
| 292 |
I have-I never thought of it! |
|
I should have found out right away. |
|
Now tell me, what did you really say |
|
To my lord? How much did you explain? |
| 296 |
Was your intention very plain?" |
|
"Demoiselle, I thought it best |
|
To be discreet with my request |
|
And only mention it in passing." |
| 300 |
"What did he reply?" "The king |
|
Said nothing." "Then it's no loss |
|
If that response receives no gloss. |
|
It's clear that Procne will have to wait |
| 304 |
For months. I know the king would hate |
|
To grant permission for what you ask; |
|
Yours is a most ungrateful task." |
|
"He won't want to?" "I don't think so." |
| 308 |
"What makes you believe that?" "I just know, |
|
Because he preferred not to reply." |
|
"There may be another reason why. |
|
Nothing he said was negative; |
| 312 |
To do as we ask could even give |
|
Him pleasure. At least he heard me out, |
|
And didn't seem distressed about |
|
My plan. For as experience teaches, |
| 316 |
Generous men do not make speeches." |
|
"That's not a saying I believe; |
|
We still don't know if he'll give me leave |
|
Or refuse to let me visit Thrace." |
| 320 |
Then Tereus was face-to-face |
|
With Pandion to try once more: |
|
"Sire, I've done what I came here for. |
|
I've tried my very best to present |
| 324 |
The message that your daughter sent. |
|
If all the men on earth combine |
|
To make a request of you, still mine, |
|
I believe, over that one should prevail. |
| 328 |
At least I'm sure you'd never fail |
|
In the generosity that is due |
|
Your daughters. What you might not do |
|
For me, I know you could not refuse |
| 332 |
Either of them, and both now use |
|
My voice. They want me to intercede |
|
With you; on their behalf I'll plead |
|
Until Philomena is allowed |
| 336 |
To come to Thrace." Pandion bowed |
|
His head and leaned it on his hand. |
|
To yield to Tereus's demand |
|
Was not at all what he desired, |
| 340 |
But even so, he was required |
|
To answer. "You don't have to be told, |
|
My friend, that I would never withhold |
|
Anything that you asked me for- |
| 344 |
You'd not speak twice, much less implore! |
|
But if you had a chance of seeing |
|
My daughter's care for my well-being, |
|
You wouldn't ask for such a boon. |
| 348 |
Without my daughter, very soon |
|
Despair would overwhelm my heart. |
|
In just one day I'd have to start |
|
Leaning on crutches and a cane, |
| 352 |
And that's the way I would remain |
|
Forever. So, if you don't mind, |
|
We'll set aside your request and find |
|
An agreed-upon but later date." |
| 356 |
"Later?" "Yes." "How long must we wait?" |
|
"Only as long as there's life in me. |
|
It must be easy enough to see |
|
That I'm so very weak and old |
| 360 |
My days on earth are nearly all told. |
|
Abraham lived fewer years than I; |
|
I've passed both Jacob and Esau by. |
|
I have accumulated treasure, |
| 364 |
But nothing gives me any pleasure |
|
Except my daughter. I still live |
|
Because of the comfort she can give; |
|
That's all I have to sustain me now. |
| 368 |
My time will be short if I allow |
|
Philomena to leave. If you insist |
|
On taking her, I won't exist |
|
More than a little while. The way, |
| 372 |
Evening and morning, night and day, |
|
She is always watching over me- |
|
If I could only make you see |
|
What, if I lost her, I would lose! |
| 376 |
She dresses me, puts on my shoes; |
|
When I get up my daughter is there, |
|
And when I go to bed. She takes care |
|
Of all my needs; by her command, |
| 380 |
No one else may even lend a hand. |
|
It's thanks to her love that I'm still here. |
|
I beg you, if you hold me dear, |
|
From this request let me be excused." |
| 384 |
Tereus felt himself abused. |
|
He had heard nothing to his taste, |
|
And felt his journey had been a waste. |
|
Ill at ease and in great distress, |
| 388 |
With nothing to do, no thought to express, |
|
He looked defeated, and he sighed |
|
As if it hurt him to have tried |
|
To impose his will and then to fail. |
| 392 |
Woe should his mad desire prevail! |
|
He stood there saying not a word, |
|
Only his heartfelt groans were heard. |
|
Insanity overcame good sense. |
| 396 |
Insanity? Rather, the immense |
|
Power of Love which conquers, destroys, |
|
And then from time to time enjoys |
|
Quickly turning things around, |
| 400 |
Raising the vanquished from the ground. |
|
"Does Love really have such might |
|
That she lets the loser win the fight?"[14] |
|
"Yes! And those who complain and groan, |
| 404 |
Make sure Love's prowess is well known, |
|
And so do those who serve her well. |
|
I have arguments to dispel |
|
All doubt: on Love there's no depending; |
| 408 |
Her fickleness is never-ending. |
|
Her faithful friends may fall from grace; |
|
Others arrive to take their place, |
|
And they're all treated just the same." |
| 412 |
"Then I think you were wrong to claim |
|
That Love is fickle, since she bestows |
|
The same gifts on all." "That just shows |
|
Love to be really treacherous. |
| 416 |
Don't you think every one of us |
|
Would agree that even here on earth |
|
Rewards should go to greater worth? |
|
But I understand why Love chooses |
| 420 |
The worst she knows, and then refuses |
|
Very much better candidates. |
|
The reason why she so frustrates |
|
The deserving is she has no test |
| 424 |
To determine which are really best." |
|
"But what about her intelligence?" |
|
"She's wise, but it's her preference |
|
To pay no respect to any facts. |
| 428 |
Following her will, she acts. |
|
Love is more shifting than the breezes; |
|
False, she'll say anything she pleases. |
|
Her promises are most impressive, |
| 432 |
But what she gives is not excessive. |
|
She does no harm except to those |
|
Who, pledging their faith to her, chose |
|
To serve her only, became her slaves. |
| 436 |
They cannot please her; she behaves |
|
More cruelly the more they show |
|
Obedience. No pain or woe |
|
Will ever free them. There can't be |
| 440 |
True love without anxiety, |
|
And one will always be Love's debtor, |
|
Because one can always love still better. |
|
Love goes her way with no explaining. |
| 444 |
Lovers who are the most complaining |
|
Are those who are the hardest hit, |
|
Receiving from Love no benefit, |
|
No joy or solace; cure or curse |
| 448 |
Love, and you only make it worse. |
|
Some think that if they just obey, |
|
They'll have a chance to break away, |
|
But they're more closely bound than ever." |
| 452 |
So Tereus, had he been clever, |
|
Would have gone back alone to Thrace. |
|
But Philomena's charms, her grace, |
|
Her beauty, her surpassing skill, |
| 456 |
Convince him he has to have his will |
|
Or surely he will go insane. |
|
He has no power to abstain.[15] |
|
What then? What strategy to try? |
| 460 |
He embraces her, then gives a sigh |
|
And weeps, despairing of that hour |
|
When he would have her in his power. |
|
By the evil one who takes no rest, |
| 464 |
The Devil, he is so possessed |
|
That in his secret heart he knows |
|
He'll bring his visit to a close |
|
Another way, if he can't succeed |
| 468 |
By persuasion: force will meet his need. |
|
He might steal the girl away by night, |
|
Although he came with only slight |
|
Company; then he hesitates, |
| 472 |
Thinking how that could fail, and waits |
|
As his hopes rapidly diminish- |
|
Why start what he could never finish? |
|
It seems much better to retreat |
| 476 |
Than go on to such a sure defeat. |
|
And indeed it would be shameful, vile |
|
Madness to storm the city while |
|
Its people were asleep in bed; |
| 480 |
Those from Thrace would soon be dead! |
|
"I must say I find it very strange |
|
That Reason had the power to change |
|
Tereus's mind about the schemes |
| 484 |
He contemplated. To me it seems |
|
He was too far gone for her to teach." |
|
"Why's that?" "What influence can reach |
|
A man obsessed by something more |
| 488 |
Than love?" "It's not love?" "You take love for |
|
Crime, betrayal? Is going insane |
|
A sign of it? To me it's plain |
|
That no true lover would you find, |
| 492 |
Like Tereus, going out of his mind. |
|
Now deeper into madness lies |
|
His only way. It's a great surprise |
|
That Reason still could make an appeal." |
| 496 |
"Did it?" Tereus began to feel |
|
His foul plan should be set aside, |
|
At least until he'd once more tried |
|
To find arguments that would succeed. |
| 500 |
Once again, he went to plead |
|
With Pandion: "Sire, I can see |
|
There's not very much you'd do for me, |
|
When you refuse this small request. |
| 504 |
I've spent much time on a useless quest; |
|
I cannot seem to achieve my aim, |
|
And I'm very sorry that I came. |
|
There's little point in vain regret. |
| 508 |
All I have left to do is set |
|
My course, go home the way I came, |
|
Feeling that I deserve the name |
|
Of fool. Would I'd never seen your face! |
| 512 |
Would that I'd never sailed from Thrace! |
|
The fact your daughter's of so much use |
|
Provides you with a fine excuse! |
|
If that's why I have toiled in vain, |
| 516 |
Traveled so long and far to gain |
|
Nothing, it really isn't fair. |
|
Surely you could afford to spare |
|
Your daughter just three days or four, |
| 520 |
When there are servants by the score, |
|
Maidens and men, in your employ! |
|
You could let Philomena enjoy |
|
At least a little time with Procne, |
| 524 |
Who sent me here. Why not agree? |
|
It doesn't seem a lot to ask. |
|
If I don't carry out my task, |
|
My regret will be more than double- |
| 528 |
First, there's my lost time and trouble; |
|
But I put something else above |
|
Even that: I'll have failed my love, |
|
Said Procne, and that if she must lack |
| 532 |
Her sister, I need not come back. |
|
If, as it seems, I haven't won |
|
My case, I'll also lose my son, |
|
And even more I'll mourn my wife, |
| 536 |
Exiled as I shall be for life. |
|
That's why you see me shedding tears- |
|
It's terrible to have such fears |
|
Because this small thing you won't allow. |
| 540 |
Let me take her, my lord! I vow |
|
That within two weeks you'll see her here, |
|
In perfect health and full of cheer. |
|
You'll have a hostage-my good name; |
| 544 |
As witnesses, the gods who claim |
|
My service. You should not be loath |
|
To trust me on my solemn oath." |
|
How skilled he was at telling lies! |
| 548 |
Pandion did not realize |
|
That false was everything he heard. |
|
The king took Tereus at his word |
|
Because of all the tears he shed. |
| 552 |
The wild, impassioned things he said |
|
Seemed, beyond all doubt, sincere; |
|
He pleaded for those whom he held dear. |
|
Such was the wicked tyrant's skill, |
| 556 |
His fervent promise to fulfill |
|
The sacred, binding oaths he swore, |
|
That it wasn't very long before |
|
The king couldn't help but sympathize. |
| 560 |
Tears began to flow from his eyes, |
|
And soon the two men wept together; |
|
Indeed, I cannot tell you whether |
|
The tears one shed were more impressive. |
| 564 |
Who would consider it excessive |
|
In an old man if he's quick to cry? |
|
"My friend," he said, "by the faith that I |
|
Must have, when your oath binds what you say, |
| 568 |
I'll let you take my daughter away |
|
Tomorrow. I'll leave her in your hands. |
|
Treat her the way that honor demands, |
|
Never forgetting how I grieve |
| 572 |
And have only given her short leave. |
|
My tears will flow when you depart; |
|
Nothing will bring joy to my heart |
|
Until she's once again in my arms. |
| 576 |
Be very sure that nothing harms |
|
My daughter. If you should be late, |
|
My love for you will turn to hate. |
|
Be very sure you don't forget this." |
| 580 |
Tereus said, "You have my promise, |
|
Sire, there is no need to say more. |
|
The longer we stay here on shore, |
|
The longer before I sail and then |
| 584 |
Bring Philomena back again." |
|
So the conversation ended |
|
Just as Tereus intended. |
|
Pandion agreed to everything. |
| 588 |
Then, to please his guest, the king |
|
Ordered his servants to begin |
|
Right away bringing tables in.[16] |
|
His high officials were on hand, |
| 592 |
Under the seneschal's command, |
|
With bakers and those in charge of wine, |
|
Making sure the service would be fine. |
|
Those who prepared the meat and fish |
| 596 |
Took special care with every dish. |
|
Every person who was able |
|
Helped at least to set a table |
|
Or to bring the water guests require |
| 600 |
To wash their hands. Not a single squire |
|
Or well-trained boy was hanging back; |
|
In no way was the service slack. |
|
The entire household showed great zeal. |
| 604 |
But nothing they offered could appeal |
|
To Tereus, not in the mood |
|
For any kind of drink or food; |
|
His nourishment was just to stare |
| 608 |
At Philomena sitting there |
|
Right next to him. Her lovely face, |
|
Her fine body's youthful grace- |
|
These were the only things that mattered. |
| 612 |
He served her all he could, and flattered, |
|
Trying in every way to charm. |
|
No one there could have guessed the harm |
|
He'd do the maiden when at last |
| 616 |
He had his chance. A long time passed |
|
While they dined, and Tereus was glad |
|
Of every moment that he had |
|
To enjoy her beauty. Just the same, |
| 620 |
He couldn't wait till the time came |
|
To carry out his vile intention. |
|
Meanwhile, he gave scant attention |
|
To peacock or to swan or pheasant, |
| 624 |
To wine the other guests found pleasant, |
|
To anything at the royal feast |
|
But Philomena. Slowly decreased |
|
The appetites of those who dined; |
| 628 |
Then they left the table to find |
|
Servants with silver bowls who poured |
|
Water for every noble lord, |
|
So he could wash and dry his hands. |
| 632 |
That accomplished, no one stands; |
|
Each joins the others who relax |
|
On couches. The talk can now be lax. |
|
They say whatever comes to mind, |
| 636 |
Wise or foolish-every kind |
|
Of conversation, even crazy. |
|
The servants, meanwhile, are not lazy, |
|
But make beds ready for the night. |
| 640 |
The thought of rest brings no delight |
|
To Tereus-it is not sleep |
|
He longs for; he'd prefer to keep |
|
The maiden company, confiding |
| 644 |
The feelings he has long been hiding. |
|
"What? Do you mean she didn't know?" |
|
"Do you think she'd have agreed to go |
|
Had she realized his secret aim |
| 648 |
Was to do her harm and bring her shame?" |
|
For the other guests, the time passed |
|
Agreeably until at last |
|
They sought their well-made beds and slept. |
| 652 |
But Tereus stayed awake; he kept |
|
Tossing and turning. First he tried |
|
The width of his bed, then the long side; |
|
Got up many times; lay down again |
| 656 |
With his eyes wide open. The other men, |
|
Warm in their comfortable beds, |
|
Did not so much as turn their heads, |
|
Being completely unaware |
| 660 |
That a madman lay among them there, |
|
Ranting, raving because the night |
|
Was taking so long to yield to light. |
|
When he heard a horn call from the tower |
| 664 |
Announcing the first morning hour, |
|
Thirty marks of gold as a present |
|
Wouldn't have seemed to him so pleasant. |
|
He quickly ordered all his crew |
| 668 |
To get up-there was a lot to do, |
|
Because very soon they'd be departing. |
|
Pandion learned that they were starting |
|
The day; they'd want to leave before long. |
| 672 |
Although he might have thought it wrong |
|
And had a great desire to heed |
|
His fears, he knew that, having agreed, |
|
He must let his daughter go to Thrace. |
| 676 |
And she was more than willing; no trace |
|
Of apprehension marred her joy. |
|
Thus what we expect to enjoy |
|
Sometimes turns out to be ill-fated. |
| 680 |
Philomena was quite elated. |
|
She thought she'd have a pleasant sail, |
|
Good winds would certainly prevail |
|
To bring her there and safely back. |
| 684 |
She didn't suffer from a lack |
|
Of prudence; how could she understand |
|
The horror Tereus had planned? |
|
Who could anticipate such deeds? |
| 688 |
And so the tyrant's plan succeeds. |
|
They started toward the ship, escorted |
|
By Pandion, who still exhorted |
|
Tereus to keep remembering |
| 692 |
The promise he had made to bring |
|
Philomena back, and that he'd vowed |
|
Not to exceed the time allowed. |
|
To her the king said, "Oh, my dear! |
| 696 |
Do not forget that I am here, |
|
Longing for your return. Don't stay |
|
Too long! Don't be too long away! |
|
You-my well-being, my delight, |
| 700 |
My joy-I must have you in my sight, |
|
Or as long as we remain apart, |
|
Live without comfort for my heart. |
|
Dear daughter, come home soon, and then |
| 704 |
I will know happiness again." |
|
These words he endlessly repeated, |
|
Embraced her, kissed her, and entreated. |
|
Each time she turned to go on board, |
| 708 |
He called her back to him, implored. |
|
At last, since nothing could be done, |
|
He commended her to the very one |
|
Who would betray him; unaware, |
| 712 |
He gave his sheep to the wolf's good care! |
|
To such a shepherd gave his consent! |
|
She's lost, if the tyrant won't repent, |
|
Give up his vile insanity, |
| 716 |
But that, it seems, is not to be: |
|
All Tereus can think about |
|
Is when he'll be able to start out. |
|
Pandion weeps when at last he must |
| 720 |
Say farewell, with a kiss of trust |
|
To his vile son-in-law, whose mind |
|
Is all intent on evil, blind |
|
To everything but his own desires. |
| 724 |
And now he has all that he requires, |
|
With the maiden wholly in his hands. |
|
Wind fills the sails as Pandion stands |
|
Weeping. The ship is moving fast. |
| 728 |
Rightly he weeps, for that's the last |
|
Of his poor daughter he'll ever see. |
|
He doesn't know there will never be |
|
A homecoming for her; very near, |
| 732 |
Now, is the worst that he could fear. |
|
The tyrant, totally obsessed, |
|
Brought her to a house he possessed, |
|
An isolated, lonely place |
| 736 |
In the tale of Chré´©en li Gois.[17] |
|
Far from everything it stood, |
|
Hidden away deep in a wood. |
|
There were no people close at hand, |
| 740 |
No towns, no cultivated land, |
|
No roads, not even paths led there. |
|
Philomena was kept unaware |
|
That anything could be the matter |
| 744 |
By Tereus's cheerful chatter, |
|
And even finding herself alone |
|
Inside with him, could not have known, |
|
Although they were far from humankind, |
| 748 |
The evil that he had in mind. |
|
He draws her close with his right arm. |
|
She doesn't think she'll come to harm, |
|
Doesn't know what his move implies- |
| 752 |
Too innocent to realize, |
|
Despite his amorous embraces, |
|
The real danger that she faces. |
|
Whenever a thief need have no fear |
| 756 |
That anything can interfere, |
|
And he is free to do his worst, |
|
He won't care which foot he puts first. |
|
There's joy for him in wicked deeds; |
| 760 |
If he has the daring that it needs, |
|
Nothing can stop him. In the eyes |
|
Of honorable men, loyal, wise, |
|
Such crimes would be repugnant, wild. |
| 764 |
But nothing in Tereus was mild |
|
Or noble. Overwhelmingly strong |
|
Was the impulse in him to do wrong. |
|
At any cost, his heart required |
| 768 |
That he obtain all he desired, |
|
Whatever evil that involved. |
|
Yet, courteously, he resolved |
|
To see if he could win her heart |
| 772 |
By wooing her, and not just start |
|
Using his strength as an argument: |
|
"I love you. I hope that you'll consent, |
|
Beautiful one, to rejoice my heart. |
| 776 |
But, so we won't soon have to part, |
|
We must share our love in secret, here." |
|
"Why is that, my lord? I hold you dear, |
|
As indeed I should; why do you speak |
| 780 |
Of concealing it? But if you seek |
|
Unlawful love, there's no more to say." |
|
"Agreed, if I can have my way! |
|
So fervently do I admire |
| 784 |
Your charms, so intense is my desire- |
|
Please understand that have you I must!" |
|
"Surely you would not abuse my trust, |
|
My lord-you could not be so vile! |
| 788 |
God forbid that you love me while |
|
My sister is your lawful wife! |
|
Don't betray her! Bring no strife |
|
Among us! Never will I agree |
| 792 |
To give Procne cause for jealousy. |
|
I'll never do what she'd grieve to hear!" |
|
"Oh, won't you?" "No!" "But you are here |
|
To do exactly as I choose! |
| 796 |
Nothing I ask can you refuse, |
|
Like it or not. You can't prevent |
|
My accomplishing my heart's intent." |
|
"You can't really mean that!" "Here and now, |
| 800 |
I am resolved to show you how! |
|
And even if this place has spies, |
|
I'm not concerned about prying eyes!" |
|
He seizes her, and she resists, |
| 804 |
Crying out as she turns and twists, |
|
Frantic, so overwhelmed with fears |
|
She is close to death. Color appears, |
|
Flushing her face; then she turns pale |
| 808 |
From rage and pain as her struggles fail, |
|
And in anguish she must understand |
|
That she had left her native land |
|
In an evil hour for this disgrace. |
| 812 |
"Traitor!" she cries, "what wicked race |
|
Do you come from? Traitor! Evil man! |
|
Tell me, traitor, what is your plan? |
|
Why have you brought me here by guile? |
| 816 |
Accursed traitor! Loathsome, vile! |
|
Is there nothing, traitor, you respect? |
|
You made a promise to protect |
|
My honor, traitor! Solemnly swore |
| 820 |
To bring me, safe and sound, once more |
|
To my home, to my father, the king, |
|
Who believed-traitor!-everything |
|
You told him, putting aside his fears |
| 824 |
Because he saw you shedding tears |
|
And because he heard your sacred vow |
|
To all your gods. Where are they now, |
|
Those gods? Do you not see any need |
| 828 |
For remembering your holy creed? |
|
What happened to the tears that streamed |
|
From your eyes, and to my father seemed |
|
Proof of your honesty. I too |
| 832 |
Saw you weeping and never knew, |
|
Alas, that it was all deceit. |
|
What is it makes you lie and cheat? |
|
Traitor! You must be out of your mind! |
| 836 |
But even now you still could find |
|
A way to redeem yourself. There's time, |
|
Even now, to renounce this crime |
|
And repent before it is too late!"[18] |
| 840 |
So she tried to avert her fate, |
|
Poor maiden, but that was not to be. |
|
The tyrant cared nothing for her plea |
|
Or for repentance. Then and there, |
| 844 |
Tereus brought all his strength to bear |
|
Against her; and she fought until |
|
He took his pleasure, though she fought still. |
|
It's truly said: an evil deed |
| 848 |
Another evil is bound to breed, |
|
Feeding the first. Soon it will grow |
|
And multiply; its foul source will show. |
|
Tereus found, ready at hand, |
| 852 |
A small, sharp knife, as if he'd planned |
|
A crime to hide the first. He explained |
|
He must make sure she never complained, |
|
Never revealed to anyone |
| 856 |
Her shame, the deed that he had done. |
|
Just one stroke, and she would lose |
|
Her tongue, and then what could she use |
|
To tell of his betrayal? The act |
| 860 |
Followed; seizing her tongue, he hacked |
|
Almost half of it out. A foul crime |
|
He thus committed a second time. |
|
And then the tyrant left her there, |
| 864 |
Locked in the house, where her despair, |
|
Her weeping and the sounds she made, |
|
Would not be heard. The men who stayed |
|
Waiting nearby knew what their lord |
| 868 |
Had done, but they could not afford |
|
To say a word, because of fear; |
|
It wasn't that they held him dear. |
|
But Tereus did a foolish thing: |
| 872 |
To guard Philomena, the king |
|
Brought a peasant woman who, instead |
|
Of farming, lived by spinning thread |
|
And weaving cloth. Her daughter stayed |
| 876 |
With her, being taught the trade. |
|
And now the old woman, bidden |
|
To keep Philomena hidden, |
|
Had many questions. Most unwise |
| 880 |
Was Tereus in his replies. |
|
When the woman had no more to ask, |
|
Tereus said it would be her task |
|
To stay, without exception, near |
| 884 |
Philomena; nothing must interfere. |
|
Whatever was needed or desired, |
|
Her constant presence would be required. |
|
She swore to it convincingly; |
| 888 |
Tereus felt he need not be |
|
A moment longer in that place, |
|
So he returned to his home in Thrace. |
|
Procne had not the slightest doubt |
| 892 |
Her husband would not come back without |
|
Her sister. Great was the joy she had |
|
In her heart, but she would not be glad |
|
For very long. They were all there, |
| 896 |
Her husband and his lords, but where |
|
Was the one with whom she would rejoice? |
|
Nothing she heard, no other voice, |
|
Was welcome; she spoke no words of cheer, |
| 900 |
"God save you" or "I'm glad you're here." |
|
Scarcely waiting to be greeted, |
|
Procne fearfully entreated, |
|
"Why didn't Philomena come? |
| 904 |
Where is she? Can't you give me some |
|
Reason for this strange delaying? |
|
Where did you leave her? Where's she staying? |
|
Why didn't she come here instead?" |
| 908 |
The cruel traitor bowed his head |
|
And made his whole appearance suggest |
|
That he was exceedingly depressed. |
|
He gave an artificial sigh, |
| 912 |
The better to conceal the lie |
|
With which he planned to deceive his wife. |
|
"My lady," he said, "in this sad life |
|
We have to be resigned about |
| 916 |
The things that we must do without." |
|
"True, and your saying so makes me fear |
|
That my sister won't be coming here." |
|
"She won't; that cannot be denied." |
| 920 |
"But what made Philomena decide |
|
Against it?" "Of that I will not speak." |
|
"Then, if you don't mind, I'll seek |
|
The reason for myself, in Greece." |
| 924 |
"Lady, if you will hold your peace, |
|
I'll tell you what you want to know, |
|
But I'd rather spare you such a blow. |
|
Alas, you've made it all too plain |
| 928 |
That, like it or not, I must explain." |
|
Then, as before, the traitor sighed; |
|
His tears flowed fast as he complied, |
|
Craftily, with her request, |
| 932 |
Knowing just what to say, how best |
|
To make his falsehoods sound sincere. |
|
"It grieves me very much, my dear, |
|
To find myself obliged to bring |
| 936 |
News that will cause you suffering. |
|
Can't you guess how extremely bad |
|
This news must be, if I'm so sad? |
|
Believe me, I wish that I could keep |
| 940 |
Silent about what makes me so weep |
|
That nothing can hold back my tears. |
|
I weep because the moment nears- |
|
If I have the courage to speak out- |
| 944 |
When you will no longer be in doubt. |
|
Then you will know the reason why |
|
I've been so unable to reply |
|
To your questions. Now I'll put aside |
| 948 |
My tender feelings." Then he sighed |
|
Once more-but it wasn't from the heart- |
|
And said what he'd planned to from the start: |
|
"The messenger who brings bad news |
| 952 |
Seems always to have no time to lose. |
|
Your sister is dead. That is the fact." |
|
"My sister's dead?" "That's what I lacked |
|
The courage to tell you until now." |
| 956 |
"Alas, poor girl!" "But you, somehow, |
|
Must not give way to your heart's pain. |
|
When sorrow comes we should not complain |
|
Too much. Death will have its way. |
| 960 |
All of us, good and bad, must pay |
|
The debt we owe; early or late, |
|
The time will come when we'll meet our fate- |
|
We can't escape, so let's be resigned. |
| 964 |
Death, in its season, came to find |
|
Your sister; we should not forget |
|
That she too had a mortal debt. |
|
Grief and anguish must be borne, |
| 968 |
For that is our lot. I pray you, mourn |
|
Without excess what will come to all." |
|
He thought to mix honey with the gall, |
|
The bitterness that his false news |
| 972 |
Had brought to Procne's heart. He used |
|
Fine arguments to bring her relief |
|
From suffering and soothe her grief. |
|
But there was no way for him to reach |
| 976 |
His wife with reasonable speech- |
|
So far was she from being resigned, |
|
She was very nearly out of her mind. |
|
She said she was wretched, in despair, |
| 980 |
Her sorrow was more than she could bear. |
|
She struck her face, tore out her hair, |
|
Cursed the gods, called Death unfair: |
|
"Death," she said, "it was a mistake |
| 984 |
To kill my sister. Nature will take |
|
Revenge! You have desecrated |
|
A loveliness that she created |
|
Without equal. Death, you would do |
| 988 |
Great kindness if you'd take me too. |
|
Death, why are you so cruel to me? |
|
Why won't you send my soul to be |
|
With Philomena's? Only then |
| 992 |
Will I know happiness again. |
|
Death, why must I wait so long |
|
To die? Surely it must be wrong |
|
That I live on and never know |
| 996 |
Anything but bitter woe. |
|
If I should live a hundred years, |
|
Never could I exhaust my tears. |
|
Come, Death, and you yourself will be free; |
| 1000 |
You need only make an end of me. |
|
Are you too far to hear me plead? |
|
Can you not help me in my need? |
|
If you want peace, you'll understand |
| 1004 |
That you must do what I command. |
|
The rest of my days, remembering |
|
This anguish, grief, and suffering, |
|
I shall always dress in mourning black. |
| 1008 |
To do otherwise would show a lack |
|
Of deference to the custom here: |
|
We grieve for those whom we hold dear." |
|
Promptly whatever she required |
| 1012 |
Was prepared for her, and then, attired |
|
In black, she said she'd never wear |
|
Different clothes, except ones less fair. |
|
A sacrificial bull was brought |
| 1016 |
To please the gods; its blood was caught |
|
In a vessel-not a drop was spilled- |
|
And when the animal had been killed, |
|
She commanded that a fire be lit |
| 1020 |
In the temple for consuming it. |
|
Thus she followed in the ways |
|
Of their ancestors in olden days, |
|
Who made offerings when they adored |
| 1024 |
Pluto. That was the overlord |
|
Of the devils, and the ugliest, |
|
Even more frightful than the rest. |
|
Procne's command was soon obeyed: |
| 1028 |
At Pluto's altar a fire was laid, |
|
And in order to increase the smoke, |
|
The custom of the Thracian folk |
|
Was to give the bull then to the flame. |
| 1032 |
Procne vowed that the very same |
|
Sacrifice would be made each year |
|
In hope that the mighty god would hear |
|
Her prayers and treat her sister well, |
| 1036 |
Giving her peace and joy in hell, |
|
Where she would have an honored place. |
|
As soon as there was but little trace |
|
Of the sacrifice, its flesh and bone |
| 1040 |
Reduced to embers and ash alone, |
|
She poured the bull's blood on the spot |
|
And put the remains in a white pot, |
|
Each particle that could be found. |
| 1044 |
Then Procne buried it in the ground |
|
Under a marble coffin, dark gray, |
|
Which then was lowered. When it lay |
|
In place, an image dreadful to see- |
| 1048 |
A statue of the divinity- |
|
Was set up at one end of the grave; |
|
For Pluto had the power to save |
|
The wretched souls who burn in hell,[19] |
| 1052 |
And he rules the devils there as well. |
|
In letters easy to read and fair, |
|
Inscribed on the marble was this prayer: |
|
"Pluto, of hell the lord and king, |
| 1056 |
I pray you accept this offering. |
|
Have mercy, god, upon the one |
|
For whom the sacrifice was done. |
|
Wherever it is her body lies, |
| 1060 |
May her soul find favor in your eyes." |
|
So, with great devotion, Procne |
|
Sacrificed to the deity, |
|
Hoping by careful rites to save |
| 1064 |
Her dear sister's soul from a grave |
|
She wasn't in! She wasn't dead, |
|
But the life Philomena led |
|
Was a burden to her, bitter grief |
| 1068 |
Renewed each day without relief |
|
By that traitor, vile demon inflamed |
|
By love. She was saddened, ashamed,[20] |
|
Because he'd made of her his treasure, |
| 1072 |
Using his strength to take his pleasure |
|
From one he had cruelly betrayed. |
|
She was very much in need of aid, |
|
And longed to let her sister know |
| 1076 |
What had become of her, but no |
|
Plan for reaching her came to mind. |
|
Even if Philomena could find |
|
A messenger, deprived of speech, |
| 1080 |
How could she tell her woes and reach |
|
Her sister? If someone could be sent, |
|
Procne would not know what was meant. |
|
Philomena could not express |
| 1084 |
Her grief, and was under such duress |
|
That no matter by what means she tried, |
|
She could find no way to go outside. |
|
Why? What is standing in her way? |
| 1088 |
That peasant woman in the pay |
|
Of Tereus was there on guard, |
|
And evading her was much too hard. |
|
Always she was looking about; |
| 1092 |
Though Philomena tried to slip out |
|
A thousand times, she did not succeed. |
|
But finally her urgent need |
|
Reminded her of something not |
| 1096 |
Unimportant: she'd seen a lot |
|
Of spinning there, done by the two |
|
Who guarded her, and so she knew |
|
That for their needlework they possessed |
| 1100 |
Equipment enough to make the best |
|
Embroidered fabrics. She understood[21] |
|
There was a means by which she could |
|
Inform her sister of her fate. |
| 1104 |
Then Philomena didn't wait |
|
A moment, but hurried to the box |
|
Where the old woman kept her stocks, |
|
Her skeins and balls of embroidery thread. |
| 1108 |
Philomena went right ahead, |
|
Helped herself to everything there, |
|
And then, taking the greatest care, |
|
Began to work on her design. |
| 1112 |
The old woman gave no sign |
|
Of objecting to this activity, |
|
And even was disposed to be |
|
Helpful. She willingly acquired |
| 1116 |
Whatever she thought would be required |
|
For Philomena's enterprise, |
|
Gave her the right tools and supplies |
|
Of beautifully colored thread, |
| 1120 |
Indigo, yellow, green, and red. |
|
She certainly didn't understand |
|
What Philomena really planned, |
|
But admired and appreciated |
| 1124 |
The fabric that was being created. |
|
She herself worked on a bit |
|
At one end, and saw the craft of it. |
|
Philomena's workmanship |
| 1128 |
Depicted, first of all, the ship |
|
In which King Tereus crossed the sea |
|
And came to Athens; then how he |
|
Behaved there, how he took her to Thrace, |
| 1132 |
Brought her to a deserted place, |
|
Raped her, and after that cut out[22] |
|
Her tongue. All this she told about[23] |
|
In her needlework, and with great skill |
| 1136 |
Portrayed the house where she was still |
|
A captive, deep in the woods where none |
|
Could find her. When her work was done |
|
As perfectly as she could make it, |
| 1140 |
She needed someone who would take it |
|
To her sister. Philomena's grief |
|
And anguish would have much relief |
|
If she could find a messenger, |
| 1144 |
But no solution occurred to her. |
|
In that house they were only three. |
|
The old woman would not agree |
|
To go, or let her daughter be sent, |
| 1148 |
And Philomena never went |
|
Outside the house-she'd never found, |
|
In six months' time, a way around |
|
Their vigilance. But now so great |
| 1152 |
Was her desire to communicate, |
|
That the new signs she invented |
|
Touched the old woman, who consented |
|
To give whatever help was needed. |
| 1156 |
Large and small requests were heeded |
|
With one exception: even now, |
|
She absolutely would not allow |
|
Philomena to go outside. |
| 1160 |
By the king's order this was denied, |
|
And the woman had to keep her word. |
|
But after long sorrow, hope stirred |
|
In Philomena's heart; there would be |
| 1164 |
An end to her harsh captivity. |
|
One day, with her guard, she stood |
|
At a window-now at last she could |
|
Look out that way, or from a door. |
| 1168 |
That had never been allowed before, |
|
Since the tyrant, greatly to be blamed, |
|
Had left her a captive, raped and maimed. |
|
Not unhappily standing so, |
| 1172 |
Philomena saw the river flow, |
|
And between it and the woods, the town |
|
Where her sister lived! Then tears ran down |
|
Her cheeks and she was weeping so |
| 1176 |
Bitterly it seemed as though |
|
Nothing could ever comfort her. |
|
If her guard could only discover |
|
How to relieve Philomena's woe, |
| 1180 |
The woman would be quick to show |
|
Her change of heart. She felt such great |
|
Pity for Philomena's state |
|
That she had no wish to be unkind, |
| 1184 |
Except that, as always, she declined |
|
To let the captive go outside. |
|
Many times Philomena tried |
|
Other requests, and she perceived |
| 1188 |
That these were always well received. |
|
When it seemed a propitious moment, |
|
She took her embroidery and went |
|
To where the peasant woman waited. |
| 1192 |
Easily they communicated; |
|
Philomena's signs were understood |
|
So well, it was almost as good |
|
As talking in the usual way. |
| 1196 |
She touched the woman then to say |
|
In gestures her hope that she'd agree |
|
To send the finished embroidery |
|
To the city in her daughter's care, |
| 1200 |
A gift for the queen residing there. |
|
Her guard found all this very clear; |
|
There seemed nothing for her to fear |
|
In giving Philomena her way- |
| 1204 |
And why should there be any delay? |
|
She thought only good would come of it, |
|
That Philomena would benefit, |
|
As she herself no doubt expected: |
| 1208 |
Who, getting such a gift, neglected |
|
To give the donor a fair return? |
|
The old woman was glad to learn |
|
Why Philomena had done that work; |
| 1212 |
If help was needed, she wouldn't shirk. |
|
Philomena felt a great relief |
|
From anger, bitterness, and grief. |
|
She hoped that just as soon as Procne |
| 1216 |
Learned where she was, she'd be set free. |
|
Procne should have the news before long. |
|
A proverb says that it is wrong |
|
Not to be prompt in doing a deed |
| 1220 |
When one has a good chance to succeed; |
|
So had Philomena proceeded, |
|
Once she realized what was needed |
|
To start and finish her own task. |
| 1224 |
The old woman saw no need to ask |
|
Questions; it seemed quite innocent, |
|
And her daughter could indeed be sent. |
|
"There's something you must do for me, |
| 1228 |
My girl: take this embroidery |
|
And give it to the queen, right away. |
|
Keep your wits about you. Don't delay |
|
Going there or returning here." |
| 1232 |
Now Philomena's tears disappear; |
|
She takes great comfort from the thought |
|
That when her embroidery is brought |
|
To Procne, she will understand, |
| 1236 |
And deliverance will be at hand. |
|
The messenger really does her best, |
|
Not stopping even once to rest |
|
Until she reaches her destination |
| 1240 |
And nicely makes her presentation. |
|
When she unfolds the cloth, the queen |
|
Knows very well what its pictures mean, |
|
But she is not inclined to share |
| 1244 |
Her thoughts. Wanting no one else aware, |
|
She makes no outcry. The messenger |
|
Is dismissed, and Procne follows her. |
|
Not so close that she would be seen, |
| 1248 |
But not too far away, the queen |
|
Keeps a safe distance from her guide, |
|
Until she finds herself outside |
|
A bolted door. Quite out of her mind, |
| 1252 |
She doesn't speak or try to find |
|
Someone to help, but with all her might |
|
Kicks it. Paralyzed with fright, |
|
The peasant woman plays deaf and dumb, |
| 1256 |
But Philomena knows who has come. |
|
She gives a great cry and rushes past |
|
The guard, who tries to hold her fast, |
|
Shaking all over from fear as more |
| 1260 |
Blows and kicks weaken the door, |
|
Whose hinges yield with a sharp crack! |
|
The woman cannot help but jump back; |
|
She runs for fear of what is outside |
| 1264 |
And locks herself in a room to hide. |
|
Procne bursts in once the way is clear, |
|
Shouting, half-crazed, so her sister will hear, |
|
"Where are you, Philomena? I'm here, |
| 1268 |
Your sister! There is nothing to fear!" |
|
With tears flowing down her face, |
|
Philomena runs toward her embrace, |
|
And Procne runs with all her might |
| 1272 |
To meet her sister and hold her tight. |
|
"Philomena, come away with me! |
|
Too long it's been since you were free. |
|
Would you had never seen the day |
| 1276 |
When I was wed and taken away |
|
By that traitor who misused you so |
|
That you cannot speak to me. Let's go |
|
Quickly and leave this place of crime." |
| 1280 |
Then toward the city, all the time |
|
Lamenting, shedding tears, they flee, |
|
Following secret ways where Procne |
|
Knows that they will not be found. |
| 1284 |
Then, in a chamber under the ground, |
|
They grieve freely; no one else is there. |
|
Procne says, "I cannot bear |
|
To see you reduced to such a state |
| 1288 |
And have no way to retaliate. |
|
God grant that his cruelty to you |
|
Receive the vengeance that is due, |
|
That the traitor pay for what he's done!" |
| 1292 |
And as she said these words, her son |
|
Unluckily came into the room |
|
Destined to be his place of doom. |
|
He was a truly handsome boy, |
| 1296 |
But that day Procne did not enjoy |
|
The sight of him. In a quiet voice |
|
She spoke words that were the Devil's choice: |
|
"Ha! What I see here is a thing |
| 1300 |
That looks too much like that traitor king! |
|
Bitter, bitter your death will be |
|
Because of your father's villainy. |
|
You are the one who'll pay for his crime. |
| 1304 |
You'll have to die before your time, |
|
Unjustly die for just one reason: |
|
Innocent though you are of treason, |
|
And though you're not the one who's hated, |
| 1308 |
Never before has God created |
|
Anyone else, any other pair |
|
So much alike-to that I swear; |
|
That's why I will cut off your head." |
| 1312 |
The child heard nothing his mother said. |
|
He ran to greet her; when she was kissed |
|
So joyfully, how could she persist |
|
In the frightful plan she had in mind? |
| 1316 |
Nature ordains for humankind, |
|
As human law itself requires |
|
And the pity in our hearts desires, |
|
That no mother could have the will |
| 1320 |
To mutilate her child, or kill. |
|
But Procne's thoughts turned again |
|
To that king forsworn, vilest of men, |
|
By whom her sister had been defiled. |
| 1324 |
Far from reassuring the child, |
|
She said that he would soon be dead, |
|
And with his flesh his father fed. |
|
This was all that could compensate |
| 1328 |
For Philomena's tragic fate. |
|
Even as, lovingly, her son |
|
Embraced her, the Devil's will was done. |
|
Pride made her listen to what he said, |
| 1332 |
And do evil, cut off her child's head |
|
And give it to Philomena. They shared |
|
In the cooking of the meat, prepared |
|
Not in just one way, but in two: |
| 1336 |
Some they put in a pot for stew |
|
And some they roasted. When at last |
|
The necessary time had passed, |
|
The roast and stew were ready to eat, |
| 1340 |
But Procne was careful to complete |
|
All details of her preparation; |
|
Then she offered her invitation |
|
To the unsuspicious king. Her wish |
| 1344 |
Is that he dine on a special dish, |
|
She says; it's what he loves the best. |
|
She would, if he doesn't mind, suggest |
|
That for this occasion he'll require |
| 1348 |
Neither a companion nor a squire. |
|
Unless he objects to it, she'd prefer |
|
That this once he dine alone with her. |
|
She will take care of everything |
| 1352 |
Without any other help. The king |
|
Agrees, but he makes one request. |
|
He says there must be another guest: |
|
Itis, his son. Then, with Procne, |
| 1356 |
He'd need no other company. |
|
Procne replies, "I'll take good care, |
|
I promise you, to have him there. |
|
But you and Itis and I will be |
| 1360 |
Alone; the feast is only for three. |
|
No one else is even to know |
|
Where we will be. And now let's go. |
|
Everything's ready. I know the fare |
| 1364 |
Was prepared with very special care; |
|
It cannot fail to please your taste." |
|
So, through her words, the king faced |
|
The truth, but he could not have guessed |
| 1368 |
How he'd be treated as Procne's guest. |
|
Don't think she wanted to reveal |
|
That his own son would be his meal! |
|
Tereus does not hesitate |
| 1372 |
To follow his wife, who leads him straight |
|
Into the room where they will dine, |
|
And her arrangements seem to him fine. |
|
Procne gives him a comfortable seat. |
| 1376 |
She's set the table where he will eat; |
|
On it a lovely white cloth lies. |
|
She brings him one of Itis's thighs. |
|
Tereus carves and eats and drinks, |
| 1380 |
But he tells Procne that he thinks |
|
Itis really should be there. |
|
"Where is he, lady? Didn't you swear |
|
That he would come and join us here?" |
| 1384 |
"You'll have had enough of him, I fear, |
|
Before long. Itis isn't far, |
|
And truly, my lord, your worries are |
|
Quite useless. If he's not here yet, |
| 1388 |
He won't delay." Procne went to get |
|
Another piece of roasted meat, |
|
And Tereus, cutting more to eat, |
|
Continued, even as he dined, |
| 1392 |
Asking his wife to go and find |
|
Itis. "I am sorry to see |
|
How you honor your word to me. |
|
Clearly, you don't have the least |
| 1396 |
Intention that Itis share this feast. |
|
I have no messenger at hand, |
|
And so, my lady, I command |
|
That you yourself go seek him out." |
| 1400 |
Procne could not reply without |
|
Telling the king how he had dined; |
|
Nor was she at all inclined |
|
Now to fashion words to hide |
| 1404 |
The truth. "What you seek is inside |
|
Your own body, but not every bit. |
|
There still remains a part of it |
|
Outside you." Philomena, who'd been |
| 1408 |
Concealed in a nearby room, just then |
|
Comes out with Itis's head in her hands, |
|
And doesn't pause until she stands |
|
In front of Tereus. She throws |
| 1412 |
The head, from which the blood still flows, |
|
At his face. Knowing he'd been betrayed, |
|
Tereus for a moment stayed |
|
Silent and sat there paralyzed. |
| 1416 |
With shame and anguish he realized |
|
It was the head of Itis, his son. |
|
He was ashamed of what he'd done. |
|
His blood boiled and his rage doubled, |
| 1420 |
Bitterly his heart was troubled; |
|
He understood what was the meat |
|
Procne had given him to eat. |
|
The pain he felt at his disgrace |
| 1424 |
Made the color come and go in his face |
|
When he saw Philomena. But shame |
|
Left him as quickly as it came; |
|
The king's mind was entirely filled |
| 1428 |
With vengeful thoughts-his son had been killed, |
|
So Philomena and his wife |
|
Would each pay for Itis with her life! |
|
As the sisters savored his defeat, |
| 1432 |
Tereus, raging, leaped to his feet |
|
And kicked down the table; everything |
|
Crashed to the ground, and then the king |
|
Saw hanging on the wall a sword |
| 1436 |
And grabbed it. The sisters couldn't afford |
|
Another moment in that place! |
|
They ran, and Tereus gave chase, |
|
Threatening, as they tried in vain |
| 1440 |
To escape, that they would soon be slain. |
|
He chased them to an open door, |
|
Where something never seen before- |
|
A very great miracle indeed- |
| 1444 |
Happened, as the Fates decreed. |
|
Tereus was changed into a bird, |
|
Old and scrawny, ugly, absurd. |
|
The little claws that tried to grip |
| 1448 |
His sword were forced to let it slip. |
|
It was a hoopoe he became[24] |
|
In punishment for his crime, the shame |
|
Inflicted on a maiden-so |
| 1452 |
The story tells us. And we know |
|
That Procne was changed into a swallow. |
|
Philomena does not forget her woe. |
|
A nightingale, famed for her song, |
| 1456 |
She still accuses those who do wrong, |
|
The traitors, liars; seeks to destroy |
|
Those who have no respect for joy, |
|
And those vile felons who mistreat, |
| 1460 |
Slander, and abuse and cheat |
|
Honorable maidens, gentle, wise. |
|
Woodlands still resound with her cries. |
|
After the winter months have passed |
| 1464 |
And summer is beginning at last, |
|
Her sweetest song comes from her woes |
|
And bitter hatred of her foes. |
|
"Kill! Kill!" demands the nightingale;[25] |
| 1468 |
And here I'll end Philomena's tale. |
