[1]
I admit that I was the cause of those fishermen’s deaths.
I didn’t kill them on purpose, but I was negligent, and
the unlicensed use of my voice is not conscionable,
I have come to understand.
Though I now know that
ignorance of the law excuses no one,
I didn’t know that I needed a license to sing.
I wouldn’t even have known where to get a license.
I was born of the Siren Mothers,
though I do not know the name of my father.
Sirens use their songs to communicate among themselves
and to attract their mating men,
who are returned to their villages afterward,
unaware of the contribution of their seed to my people.
I was different from my sisters,
equal in the quality of my song, but reclusive.
I preferred solitude,
to sing alone in the forests and
gather fruits and nuts on my long walks.
I didn’t fit the ideals of the Council
and was soon invited to leave the Mediterranean coast,
to exile voluntarily.
I found my way to a cliff,
high above the Rhine River,
where the forests are thick,
the food generally plentiful,
and where I could build a warm shelter.
Of course, I sang.
I couldn’t help it.
I’m a Siren and it’s my nature to sing.
But I had no idea all of those boats were
crashing into the rocks below me.
Truthfully, I had no idea.
This went on for years, I suppose,
before I noticed all the wreckage.
Even then, I thought it was just the river current
that drove those men to their deaths,
since that is a tricky part of the river to navigate
and prone to violent storms.
It was only after a man scaled the cliff
and came at me with a knife
that I realized it was my voice, not the rapids,
that had caused the trouble.
I thought to seduce my attacker with song.
I was certainly ready for a mate.
I had felt the warmth building inside me for quite some time.
But he didn’t respond to my voice and
I realized he was deaf.
I had no choice but to slay him,
to save myself, you see.
I was quick about it,
to save him pain.
I wept for that poor man,
mourned him for two days while I ate his raw flesh,
which was my duty as the victim,
and the custom of my people.
I still have his skull if his widow would like it returned.
I am grateful to the Court for showing me the errors of my ways.
I’m not a lawbreaker by nature.
Not even a contrarian.
I’m just clumsy and ignorant.
That is why I found my way to the village and
told your elders what had happened.
I apologize, sincerely,
to the wives, mothers, and children
who have suffered their losses
as a result of my carelessness.
I weep for your hardship.
I submit to the wisdom and humanity of the Court.
I have been called Monster many times during my trial,
and on the weight of the evidence,
I realize it must be true.
I must be a monster,
though in my heart,
I have never felt ill-will toward anyone.
I do not ask for your forgiveness.
Nor do I ask for absolution.
That is for the ghosts of my ancestor Mothers to decide.
I only hope for your understanding.
That is all.
Thank you for removing the
muzzle and allowing me to speak.
[2]
After Lorelei is returned to her sound-proof cell,
and the translation text is deleted from the screen,
the members of the gallery remove their earplugs
to hear the jury’s verdict.
She would be found guilty.
She had to be.
Everyone knew that.
This was a just society, with decent, fair-minded citizens,
compassionate, humane, loyal to their community.
But the correct decision would need to be made.
The verdict was known.
It was the sentence everyone was waiting for.
People were already reaching for their pocketbooks
to make their wagers.
Would it be life imprisonment
with the standard regularly-scheduled tortures,
and with her vocal cords surgically removed?
Or would she be dropped from the crater rim,
to be burned alive in the belly of Mount Etna,
like so many of her Siren ancestors?