Procne said, it happened at my wedding
On the wedding night in the bedroom
Foul influences presided
Juno was not there
Hymen was not there
Nor the three Graces in the brideroom
But the Furies came
With fire stolen from a funeral
And a screech owl screamed up in the rafters
Over the bridebed
While Tereus my husband took my body
And the owl splattered us naked
And that same night I conceived my son
Itys, Itys
And for five years was a peaceful wife
A dutiful queen but begged my husband
Tereus I miss my sister
Send me to Philomel or her to me
It makes no difference which
And with my flesh persuaded him
To send me to Athens or her to Thrace
Till finally Tereus sailed to Athens
Over the curling sea in his king’s ship
To bring my sister Philomel
To me to see each other and compare.
Philomela said, when the king came
I mean Tereus my sister’s king
He grasped my father’s hand, hands of two kings
And stated his errand that I sail back
To visit Procne in her own palace
But when my father called me to enter
Tereus’ eyes gloated, I felt undressed
He scanned my clothes and underneath my clothes
He sweated, he sighed, he stared
His eyes glued to my flesh
Men of his country are notorious for that
He talked too fast, his words foamed
His lips boiled, his eyes wetted
Yet he seemed kind and reverent and soft
I begged my father let me go
O let me go with Tereus to my dear
Which my good father nodded at with frowns
And sob-shaken saw us aboard.
Tereus said, it was a common errand
Though generous for me
To fetch my sister-in-law to see my queen
A visit of alliance, courtesy
And so I sailed the curling sea to Athens
Pleaded with Pandion the king
To hand his daughter Philomel
Into my trust to bear her to her flesh
Her flesh-and-blood her sister, my queen
And he acceded but when she entered
My blood took fire my insides roiled
Like animals let loose I lost my footing
My brain was like a barn-fire
I thought I’d bribe her nurses have her now
Offer her the richest whore’s gold
Or rape her in her room and if I die
What difference does it make, somehow I spoke
The right words and got her to the ship
Shook hands and embraced the king
Who wept to see her go as well he might.
Philomel said, why on his ship
Did Tereus’ eyes dog me like a thief
Silkily following my every move
Or now like an eagle gazing down
As if I were a rabbit to be snatched
By ripping claws borne to his crag.
Tereus said, the swift ship finally
Has struck the shore of Thrace, I have her bound
And wrenched to the hut in the black wood
Hurl her down and rip her dress to threads
And mount her like a whore
The more she cries for Procne or her father
Riper more frantic grows my lust
And now she prays and quakes like a lamb
Torn by a wolf or bloodied like a dove
Maimed by a hawk, she tears her hair
Claws at her arms and shrieks her hate
And swears revenge for Procne for herself
Her father for broken vows, for fate
She shall be sworn to all the gods
Till rocks shed tears and stones repeat
The rape of Philomel, till in my rage
I yanked her tongue forth with a pincers
And with my dagger cut it off
Where it lay throbbing at her feet as if
To creep back to its mistress, foul thing
Twitching like a serpent’s tail, and watching
I mounted her again and gorged my pleasure.
Procne said, my sister fell asleep
On board Tereus’ ship and a tall wave
As if for love of her in all her beauty
Curled over her and took her in its arms
And bore her down to bottomless sleep,
Tereus told me this with howling moans
And is disconsolate and hunts each day
In the dark wood to control his sorrow,
As for me I dress in black
And go to see the sepulchre I built
To pray and do the rites of my dear dead
Sister Philomel.
Philomel thought, I will pick out old threads
And weave my story in the frame
For Procne’s eyes to read
The old servant will take it to the queen
A present from an unknown hand.
Procne said, when I unwound the gift
And read the poison of the truth
I locked myself in a far room and wept
Plotted our revenge and held my tongue
But on the feast of Bacchus when the night
Shakes with clash of brass and women’s shrieks
Rip through the sky and animals are caught
And torn apart and eaten and perhaps
Even a child is caught and torn and eaten
I dressed as Frenzy with the Thracian women
Vines in my hair the deerskin on my back
Spear at my shoulder, mad with grief
I raced the forest to her cottage
And screaming Bacchus Bacchus smashed the door
And dressed my Philomel as a Bacchante
All draped with ivy and ripe vines
And brought her in terror to the palace
Hid her in a farthest room to weep
In one another’s arms and plot the end
How? to burn the palace down
And Tereus in its ruins, use the sword?
Torture his body, stick out his eyes,
Hack him to pieces, cut off his genitals
That have raped all of us and Thrace?
At which my sole son Itys wandered by
Itys the image of Tereus, Itys
His heir, I hugged him close and kissed him
Merely my child, a prince, a monster’s child
Then Philomel took down a sword for me
I stabbed him through the breast
And my crazed sister seized the sword
And stabbed him through the throat, the room ran blood,
We cut and pared the boy and threw the gobbets
Into the cooking pots and boiled the meat
Itys’ hacked head staring from the table.
Tereus said, it is my privilege
This black night of the orgies to be served
Alone upon my throne by my good queen
Who this night is my sole servant
And eat whatever food she sets at table
And after eating to admit my son,
Who someday will repeat the privilege,
Bring Itys here.
Procne said, you have your Itys here
Inside you, flesh of your flesh
It is your son you ate for privilege
Monster tyrant rapist
Now you have feasted on your flesh and blood,
At which with foaming lips and splashed with gore
Philomel leapt before the king and flung
The dripping boy’s head at his father’s head
Whose face a map of horror staggered up
And tried to vomit but pulled out his sword.
Fly Philomel I screamed and both of us
Flew down the hallways, suddenly on wings
For Philomela was a nightingale
And I a swallow slicing through the air
And King Tereus with a helmet’s crest
And bill shaped like a spear
Leapt in the air to follow us.
The feathers of these birds are stained with murder.
Leave a Reply