Domnei: A Comedy of Woman-Worship

by James Branch Cabell

  "You have affronted, by an incredible imposture and beyond the reach ofmercy, every listener in this hall. You have injured me most deeply ofall persons here. Yet it is to me alone that you confess."

  Perion leaned forward. You are to understand that, through theincurrent necessities of every circumstance, each of them spoke inwhispers, even now. It was curious to note the candid mirth on eitherside. Mercury was making his adieux to Alcmena's waiting-woman in themiddle of a jig.

  "But you," sneered Perion, "are merciful in all things. Rogue that Iam, I dare to build on this notorious fact. I am snared in a hardgolden trap, I cannot get a guide to Manneville, I cannot even procurea horse from Count Emmerick's stables without arousing fatalsuspicions; and I must be at Manneville by dawn or else be hanged.Therefore I dare stake all upon one throw; and you must either save orhang me with unwashed hands. As surely as God reigns, my future restswith you. And as I am perfectly aware, you could not live comfortablywith a gnat's death upon your conscience. Eh, am I not a seasonedrascal?"

  "Do not remind me now that you are vile," said Melicent. "Ah, no, notnow!"

  "Lackey, impostor, and thief!" he sternly answered. "There you have thecatalogue of all my rightful titles. And besides, it pleases me, for areason I cannot entirely fathom, to be unpardonably candid and to flingmy destiny into your lap. To-night, as I have said, the _Tranchemer_lies off Manneville; keep counsel, get me a horse if you will, andto-morrow I am embarked for desperate service under the harried Kaiserof the Greeks, and for throat-cuttings from which I am not likely everto return. Speak, and I hang before the month is up."

  Dame Melicent looked at him now, and within the moment Perion wasrepaid, and bountifully, for every folly and misdeed of his entirelife.

  "What harm have I ever done you, Messire de la Foret, that you shouldshame me in this fashion? Until to-night I was not unhappy in thebelief I was loved by you. I may say that now without paltering, sinceyou are not the man I thought some day to love. You are but the rind ofhim. And you would force me to cheat justice, to become a huntedthief's accomplice, or else to murder you!"

  "It comes to that, madame."

  "Then I must help you preserve your life by any sorry stratagems youmay devise. I shall not hinder you. I will procure you a guide toManneville. I will even forgive you all save one offence, sincedoubtless heaven made you the foul thing you are." The girl was in ahot and splendid rage. "For you love me. Women know. You love me. You!"

  "Undoubtedly, madame."

  "Look into my face! and say what horrid writ of infamy you fancied wasapparent there, that my nails may destroy it."

  "I am all base," he answered, "and yet not so profoundly base as yousuppose. Nay, believe me, I had never hoped to win even such scornfulkindness as you might accord your lapdog. I have but dared to peep atheaven while I might, and only as lost Dives peeped. Ignoble as I am, Inever dreamed to squire an angel down toward the mire and filth whichis henceforward my inevitable kennel."

  "The masque is done," said Melicent, "and yet you talk, and talk, andtalk, and mimic truth so cunningly--Well, I will send some trustyperson to you. And now, for God's sake!--nay, for the fiend's love whois your patron!--let me not ever see you again, Messire de la Foret."

  2.

  _How the Vicomte Was Very Gay_

  There was dancing afterward and a sumptuous supper. The Vicomte dePuysange was generally accounted that evening the most excellent ofcompany. He mingled affably with the revellers and found a prosperousanswer for every jest they broke upon the projected marriage of DameMelicent and King Theodoret; and meanwhile hugged the reflection thathalf the realm was hunting Perion de la Foret in the more customaryhaunts of rascality. The springs of Perion's turbulent mirth were thatto-morrow every person in the room would discover how impudently everyperson had been tricked, and that Melicent deliberated even now, andcould not but admire, the hunted outlaw's insolence, however much sheloathed its perpetrator; and over this thought in particular Perionlaughed like a madman.

  "You are very gay to-night, Messire de Puysange," said the Bishop ofMontors.

  This remarkable young man, it is necessary to repeat, had reachedBellegarde that evening, coming from Brunbelois. It was he (as you haveheard) who had arranged the match with Theodoret. The bishop himselfloved his cousin Melicent; but, now that he was in holy orders andpossession of her had become impossible, he had cannily resolved toutilise her beauty, as he did everything else, toward his ownpreferment.

  "Oh, sir," replied Perion, "you who are so fine a poet must surely knowthat _gay_ rhymes with _to-day_ as patly as _sorrow_ goes with_to-morrow_."

  "Yet your gay laughter, Messire de Puysange, is after all but breath:and _breath_ also"--the bishop's sharp eyes fixed Perion's--"has ahackneyed rhyme."

  "Indeed, it is the grim rhyme that rounds off and silences all ourrhyming," Perion assented. "I must laugh, then, without rhyme orreason."

  Still the young prelate talked rather oddly. "But," said he, "you havean excellent reason, now that you sup so near to heaven." And hisglance at Melicent did not lack pith.

  "No, no, I have quite another reason," Perion answered; "it is thatto-morrow I breakfast in hell."

  "Well, they tell me the landlord of that place is used to cater to eachaccording to his merits," the bishop, shrugging, returned.

  And Perion thought how true this was when, at the evening's end, he wasalone in his own room. His life was tolerably secure. He trustedAhasuerus the Jew to see to it that, about dawn, one of the ship'sboats would touch at Fomor Beach near Manneville, according to theirold agreement. Aboard the _Tranchemer_ the Free Companions awaitedtheir captain; and the savage land they were bound for was a thoughtbeyond the reach of a kingdom's lamentable curiosity concerning thewhereabouts of King Helmas' treasure. The worthless life of Perion wassafe.

  For worthless, and far less than worthless, life seemed to Perion as hethought of Melicent and waited for her messenger. He thought of herbeauty and purity and illimitable loving-kindness toward every personin the world save only Perion of the Forest. He thought of how cleanshe was in every thought and deed; of that, above all, he thought, andhe knew that he would never see her any more.

  "Oh, but past any doubting," said Perion, "the devil caters to eachaccording to his merits."

  3.

  _How Melicent Wooed_

  Then Perion knew that vain regret had turned his brain, very certainly,for it seemed the door had opened and Dame Melicent herself had come,warily, into the panelled gloomy room. It seemed that Melicent pausedin the convulsive brilliancy of the firelight, and stayed thus withvaguely troubled eyes like those of a child newly wakened from sleep.

  And it seemed a long while before she told Perion very quietly that shehad confessed all to Ayrart de Montors, and had, by reason of deMontors' love for her, so goaded and allured the outcome of theirtalk--"ignobly," as she said,--that a clean-handed gentleman would comeat three o'clock for Perion de la Foret, and guide a thief towardunmerited impunity. All this she spoke quite levelly, as one readsaloud from a book; and then, with a signal change of voice, Melicentsaid: "Yes, that is true enough. Yet why, in reality, do you think Ihave in my own person come to tell you of it?"

  "Madame, I may not guess. Hah, indeed, indeed," Perion cried, becausehe knew the truth and was unspeakably afraid, "I dare not guess!"

  "You sail to-morrow for the fighting oversea----" she began, but hersweet voice trailed and died into silence. He heard the crepitations ofthe fire, and even the hurried beatings of his own heart, as against aterrible and lovely hush of all created life. "Then take me with you."

  Perion had never any recollection of what he answered. Indeed, heuttered no communicative words, but only foolish babblements.

  "Oh, I do not understand," said Melicent. "It is as though some spellwere laid upon me. Look you, I have been cleanly reared, I have neverwronged any person that I know of, and throughout my quiet, shelteredlife I have loved truth and honour most of all. My judgment grants youto
be what you are confessedly. And there is that in me more masterfuland surer than my judgment, that which seems omniscient and lightlyputs aside your confessings as unimportant."

  "Lackey, impostor, and thief!" young Perion answered. "There you havethe catalogue of all my rightful titles fairly earned."

  "And even if I believed you, I think I would not care! Is that notstrange? For then I should despise you. And even then, I think, I wouldfling my honour at your feet, as I do now, and but in part withloathing, I would still entreat you to make of me your wife, yourservant, anything that pleased you . . . . Oh, I had thought that whenlove came it would be sweet!"

  Strangely quiet, in every sense, he answered:

  "It is very sweet. I have known no happier moment in my life. For youstand within arm's reach, mine to touch, mine to possess and do with asI elect. And I dare not lift a finger. I am as a man that has lain fora long while in a dungeon vainly hungering for the glad light ofday--who, being freed at last, must hide his eyes from the dearsunlight he dare not look upon as yet. Ho, I am past speech unworthy ofyour notice! and I pray you now speak harshly with me, madame, for whenyour pure eyes regard me kindly, and your bright and delicate lips havecome thus near to mine, I am so greatly tempted and so happy that Ifear lest heaven grow jealous!"

  "Be not too much afraid--" she murmured.

  "Nay, should I then be bold? and within the moment wake Count Emmerickto say to him, very boldly, 'Beau sire, the thief half Christendom ishunting has the honour to request your sister's hand in marriage'?"

  "You sail to-morrow for the fighting oversea. Take me with you."

  "Indeed the feat would be worthy of me. For you are a lady tenderlynurtured and used to every luxury the age affords. There comes to wooyou presently an excellent and potent monarch, not all unworthy of yourlove, who will presently share with you many happy and honourableyears. Yonder is a lawless naked wilderness where I and my fellowdesperadoes hope to cheat offended justice and to preservethrice-forfeited lives in savagery. You bid me aid you to go into thiscountry, never to return! Madame, if I obeyed you, Satan would protestagainst pollution of his ageless fires by any soul so filthy."

  "You talk of little things, whereas I think of great things. Love isnot sustained by palatable food alone, and is not served only by thosepersons who go about the world in satin."

  "Then take the shameful truth. It is undeniable I swore I loved you,and with appropriate gestures, too. But, dompnedex, madame! I am pastmaster in these specious ecstasies, for somehow I have rarely seen thewoman who had not some charm or other to catch my heart with. I confessnow that you alone have never quickened it. My only purpose was throughhyperbole to wheedle you out of a horse, and meanwhile to have myrecreation, you handsome jade!--and that is all you ever meant to me. Iswear to you that is all, all, all!" sobbed Perion, for it appearedthat he must die. "I have amused myself with you, I have abominablytricked you--"

  Melicent only waited with untroubled eyes which seemed to plumb hisheart and to appraise all which Perion had ever thought or longed forsince the day that Perion was born; and she was as beautiful, it seemedto him, as the untroubled, gracious angels are, and more compassionate.

  "Yes," Perion said, "I am trying to lie to you. And even at lying Ifail."

  She said, with a wonderful smile:

  "Assuredly there were never any other persons so mad as we. For I mustdo the wooing, as though you were the maid, and all the while yourebuff me and suffer so that I fear to look on you. Men say you are nobetter than a highwayman; you confess yourself to be a thief: and Ibelieve none of your accusers. Perion de la Foret," said Melicent, andballad-makers have never shaped a phrase wherewith to tell you of hervoice, "I know that you have dabbled in dishonour no more often than anarchangel has pilfered drying linen from a hedgerow. I do not guess,for my hour is upon me, and inevitably I know! and there is nothingdares to come between us now."

  "Nay,--ho, and even were matters as you suppose them, without anywarrant,--there is at least one silly stumbling knave that dares asmuch. Saith he: 'What is the most precious thing in the world?--Why,assuredly, Dame Melicent's welfare. Let me get the keeping of it, then.For I have been entrusted with a host of common priceless things--withyouth and vigour and honour, with a clean conscience and a child'sfaith, and so on--and no person alive has squandered them moregallantly. So heartward ho! and trust me now, my timorous yoke-fellow,to win and squander also the chiefest jewel of the world.' Eh, thus hechuckles and nudges me, with wicked whisperings. Indeed, madame, thisrascal that shares equally in my least faculty is a most pitiful,ignoble rogue! and he has aforetime eked out our common livelihood bysuch practices as your unsullied imagination could scarcely depicture.Until I knew you I had endured him. But you have made of him a horror.A horror, a horror! a thing too pitiful for hell!"

  Perion turned away from her, groaning. He flung himself into a chair.He screened his eyes as if before some physical abomination.

  The girl kneeled close to him, touching him.

  "My dear, my dear! then slay for me this other Perion of the Forest."

  And Perion laughed, not very mirthfully.

  "It is the common usage of women to ask of men this little labour,which is a harder task than ever Hercules, that mighty-muscled king ofheathenry, achieved. Nay, I, for all my sinews, am an attestedweakling. The craft of other men I do not fear, for I have encounteredno formidable enemy save myself; but that same midnight stabberunhorsed me long ago. I had wallowed in the mire contentedly enoughuntil you came.... Ah, child, child! why needed you to trouble me! forto-night I want to be clean as you are clean, and that I may not everbe. I am garrisoned with devils, I am the battered plaything of everyvice, and I lack the strength, and it may be, even the will, to leavemy mire. Always I have betrayed the stewardship of man and god alikethat my body might escape a momentary discomfort! And loving you as Ido, I cannot swear that in the outcome I would not betray you too, tothis same end! I cannot swear--Oh, now let Satan laugh, yet notunpitifully, since he and I, alone, know all the reasons why I may notswear! Hah, Madame Melicent!" cried Perion, in his great agony, "youoffer me that gift an emperor might not accept save in awed gratitude;and I refuse it." Gently he raised her to her feet. "And now, in God'sname, go, madame, and leave the prodigal among his husks."

  "You are a very brave and foolish gentleman," she said, "who chooses toface his own achievements without any paltering. To every man, I think,that must be bitter work; to the woman who loves him it is impossible."

  Perion could not see her face, because he lay prone at the feet ofMelicent, sobbing, but without any tears, and tasting very deeply ofsuch grief and vain regret as, he had thought, they know in hell alone;and even after she had gone, in silence, he lay in this same posturefor an exceedingly long while.

  And after he knew not how long a while, Perion propped his chin betweenhis hands and, still sprawling upon the rushes, stared hard into thelittle, crackling fire. He was thinking of a Perion de la Foret thatonce had been. In him might have been found a fit mate for Melicent hadthis boy not died very long ago.

  It is no more cheerful than any other mortuary employment, thisdisinterment of the person you have been, and are not any longer; andso did Perion find his cataloguing of irrevocable old follies andevasions.

  Then Perion arose and looked for pen and ink. It was the first letterhe ever wrote to Melicent, and, as you will presently learn, she neversaw it.

  In such terms Perion wrote:

  "Madame--It may please you to remember that when Dame Melusine and Iwere interrogated, I freely confessed to the murder of King Helmas andthe theft of my dead master's jewels. In that I lied. For it was mymanifest duty to save the woman whom, as I thought, I loved, and it wasapparent that the guilty person was either she or I.

  "She is now at Brunbelois, where, as I have heard, the splendour of herestate is tolerably notorious. I have not ever heard she gave a thoughtto me, her cat's-paw. Madame, when I think of you and then of thatsleek, smiling woman, I am
appalled by my own folly. I am aghast by mylong blindness as I write the words which no one will believe. To whatavail do I deny a crime which every circumstance imputed to me and myown confession has publicly acknowledged?

  "But you, I think, will believe me. Look you, madame, I have nothing togain of you. I shall not ever see you any more. I go into a perilousand an eternal banishment; and in the immediate neighbourhood of deatha man finds little sustenance for romance. Take the worst of me: agentleman I was born, and as a wastrel I have lived, and always veryfoolishly; but without dishonour. I have never to my knowledge--and Godjudge me as I speak the truth!--wronged any man or woman save myself.My dear, believe me! believe me, in spite of reason! and understandthat my adoration and misery and unworthiness when I think of you aresuch as I cannot measure, and afford me no judicious moment wherein tofashion lies. For I shall not see you any more.

  "I thank you, madame, for your all-unmerited kindnesses, and, oh, Ipray you to believe!"

  4.

  _How the Bishop Aided Perion_

  Then at three o'clock, as Perion supposed, someone tapped upon thedoor. Perion went out into the corridor, which was now unlighted, sothat he had to hold to the cloak of Ayrart de Montors as the youngprelate guided Perion through the complexities of unfamiliar halls andstairways into an inhospitable night. There were ready two horses, andpresently the men were mounted and away.

  Once only Perion shifted in the saddle to glance back at Bellegarde,black and formless against an empty sky; and he dared not look again,for the thought of her that lay awake in the Marshal's Tower, so nearat hand as yet, was like a dagger. With set teeth he followed in thewake of his taciturn companion. The bishop never spoke save to growlout some direction.