Near-tragedy of the Second Messenger

by David Michael Conner

 

Second Messenger

O, horror, horror that I am witness,

eyes to see for the blinded and damned king

Odysseus and his dead wife and mother,

and the mother of his children.

How shall I remove myself from the scene

to deliver the news of our fallen king

and queen?  How shall I answer

to the gods who know

and the citizens, who must know

of the spilt blood of bother and wife,

blood contained in a hanging bag of bones without breath,

son and husband breathing but flowing blood.

O, the spectacle will never leave my mind’s eye.

O that I were blinded before the king!

Sir, sir, might I ask if you see a seeing man before you?

 

A Farmer

Why, I see no man but you, and you see me

well enough.  I see a seeing man unless another man

is blinded from me.  Why do you ask?

 

Second Messenger

Blinded!  Would that I did not see with crystal vision!

 

Farmer

            You have seen something, messenger?

 

Second Messenger

            My very own eyes have told the story,

            and my ears too have heard the cries of woe.

            The tragedy lives inside me now. 

I cannot bear to relive it for all the people!

 

Farmer

            What is the tragedy?

 

Second Messenger

            The queen Jocasta is dead.

 

Farmer

            O!

 

Second Messenger

            And Oedipus the king, blinded.

 

Farmer

            O who would carry out such an assault on the all-seeing

            gods who appointed them to their noble thrones?

 

Second Messenger

            It was she, Jocasta, who took her own breath with a braided cord.

 

Farmer

            O!  Woe!

 

Second Messenger

            —He, the king, who plucked out his own eyes.

 

Farmer

            O!

 

Second Messenger

            So not to see his own dead wife.

 

Farmer

            O, for love!  Poor Jocasta!  Poor Oedipus!

 

Second Messenger

            And dead mother, too.

 

Farmer

            Who?  How is this?

 

Second Messenger

            Two lifelines, the vessel that bore him and that bore his children, too,

in one woman.  How shall I tell?

 

Farmer

            You have told the misfortune.  It is told.

 

Second Messenger

            Who would I fear now but my own telling words?

 

 

 

Farmer

            Fear the gods and the fates.

 

Second Messenger

            Yes!  I fear them who made this happen.

            But I fear delivering the message to the people.

            Am I to fear this?

 

Farmer

            I harbor no hatred toward a witness to a tragedy.

 

Second Messenger

            Do not hate me!

 

Farmer

            I do not.

 

Second Messenger

            Would you tell?

 

Farmer

            I did not witness the crimes of which you speak.

 

Second Messenger

            You have heard the stories.

 

Farmer

            I would not tell.

 

Second Messenger

            Who would hold the order while I deliver the message,

            so the hostile mobs don’t relive the horrible attacks on me,

in place of their fallen king and queen?

 

Farmer

            Will you not tell, then?

 

Second Messenger

            I cannot see myself telling again!

            I would sooner pluck out my own eyes than to see,

            tear a gash in my throat than to speak, a gash

            where the rope burns the king’s queen and mother!

 

Farmer

            It is your post to deliver the message.

 

Second Messenger

            O, gods, to be in the business of agriculture, where the burden is on my back

            and not my poor soul!

 

Farmer

            Do you abide by the gods?

 

Second Messenger

            Yes, I listen to them well.

            But it was Oedipus who told me to tell.

 

Farmer

            Obey your king.

 

Second Messenger

            The man is cursed!

 

Farmer

            And still he is your king.  Follow him.

 

Second Messenger

            To Hades?

 

Farmer

            If you must.

 

Second Messenger

            By the gods!

 

Farmer

            King by the gods.  So ordained. So ordered. 

 

Second Messenger

Fated to die a messenger bearing bad news, he who brought the storm to a peaceful day.  Is this my fate?

 

Farmer

            You must not think so, but it is if it is.

 

Second Messenger

            It would be my fate.

 

Farmer

            Then it would be your tragedy.

            You can see it is not.

 

Second Messenger

            I see for the king, carry the news of his wife on my breath.

 

Farmer

            Then you see, it is his tragedy: The tragedy of Oedipus the King.

            You are only a messenger with the tale to tell.  It is your tale,

            but it is not your tragedy; it is your task only to find the words to tell it.

 

Second Messenger

            The words do not come to me; they do not come. 

 

Farmer

            Trust in the gods to give you the words when the time comes.

 

Second Messenger

            I do trust the gods, but I do not trust my own breath.  My words may betray me

            for fear of my own life.

 

Farmer

            Your life is in the hands of the gods, not your own.

            Be a man of honor and do your duty.

 

Second Messenger

            I intend to do so, but I think my mortal body may act in revolt

            and censor the harsh truth.  I will to be honest, but what if I cannot?

 

Farmer

Then you will betray the gods and your fate, or the gods will betray your foolish mouth and you will in spite of yourself speak words inspired by insight and truth.

 

Second Messenger

            I will speak again, but not for the gods;

            instead for the king and the queen,

            whose fates by the gods were condemned,

            and who I, only a man, can serve.

            It is not the gods I fear now, but the people,

            for the people hold the power.

            The woman cursed the man she bore and married,

            and the man brought her death to her.

            The power to live or die is in the hands of the people:

            This humbling knowledge will give me the words,

            not the gods, as through their absence

            I know my fate is uncertain.