Jurgen: A Comedy of Justice

by James Branch Cabell

  15.

  Of Compromises in Glathion

  The tale records that it was not a great while before, in simplejustice to Guenevere, Duke Jurgen had afforded her the advantage offrank conversation in actual privacy. For conventions have to beregarded, of course. Thus the time of a princess is not her own, andat any hour of day all sorts of people are apt to request anaudience just when some most improving conversation is progressingfamously: but the Hall of Judgment stood vacant and unguarded atnight.

  "But I would never consider doing such a thing," said Guenevere:"and whatever must you think of me, to make such a proposal!"

  "That too, my dearest, is a matter which I can only explain inprivate."

  "And if I were to report your insolence to my father--"

  "You would annoy him exceedingly: and from such griefs it is ourduty to shield the aged."

  "And besides, I am afraid."

  "Oh, my dearest," says Jurgen, and his voice quavered, because hislove and his sorrow seemed very great to him: "but, oh, my dearest,can it be that you have not faith in me! For with all my body andsoul I love you, as I have loved you ever since I first raised yourface between my hands, and understood that I had never before knownbeauty. Indeed, I love you as, I think, no man has ever loved anywoman that lived in the long time that is gone, for my love isworship, and no less. The touch of your hand sets me to trembling,dear; and the look of your gray eyes makes me forget there isanything of pain or grief or evil anywhere: for you are theloveliest thing God ever made, with joy in the new skill that hadcome to His fingers. And you have not faith in me!"

  Then the Princess gave a little sobbing laugh of content andrepentance, and she clasped the hand of her grief-stricken lover."Forgive me, Jurgen, for I cannot bear to see you so unhappy!"

  "Ah, and what is my grief to you!" he asks of her, bitterly.

  "Much, oh, very much, my dear!" she whispered.

  So in the upshot Jurgen was never to forget that moment wherein hewaited behind the door, and through the crack between the half-opendoor and the door-frame saw Guenevere approach irresolutely, awavering white blur in the dark corridor. She came to talk with himwhere they would not be bothered with interruptions: but she camedelightfully perfumed, in her night-shift, and in nothing else.Jurgen wondered at the way of these women even as his arms wentabout her in the gloom. He remembered always the feel of that warmand slender and yielding body, naked under the thin fabric of theshift, as his arms first went about her: of all their momentstogether that last breathless minute before either of them hadspoken stayed in his memory as the most perfect.

  And yet what followed was pleasant enough, for now it was to thewide and softly cushioned throne of a king, no less, that Guenevereand Jurgen resorted, so as to talk where they would not be botheredwith interruptions. The throne of Gogyrvan was perfectly dark, underits canopy, in the unlighted hall, and in the dark nobody can seewhat happens.

  Thereafter these two contrived to talk together nightly upon thethrone of Glathion: but what remained in Jurgen's memory was thatlast moment behind the door, and the six tall windows upon the eastside of the hall, those windows which were of commingled blue andsilver, but were all an opulent glitter, throughout that time in thenight when the moon was clear of the tree-tops and had not yet risenhigh enough to be shut off by the eaves. For that was all whichJurgen really saw in the Hall of Judgment. There would be a briefperiod wherein upon the floor beneath each window would show anarrow quadrangle of moonlight: but the windows were set in a wallso deep that this soon passed. On the west side were six windowsalso, but about these was a porch; so no light ever came from thewest.

  Thus in the dark they would laugh and talk with lowered voices.Jurgen came to these encounters well primed with wine, and inconsequence, as he quite comprehended, talked like an angel, withoutconfining himself exclusively to celestial topics. He was oftendelighted by his own brilliance, and it seemed to him a pity therewas no one handy to take it down: so much of his talking wasnecessarily just a little over the head of any girl, howeverbeautiful and adorable.

  And Guenevere, he found, talked infinitely better at night. It wasnot altogether the wine which made him think that, either: the girldisplayed a side she veiled in the day time. A girl, far less aprincess, is not supposed to know more than agrees with a man'snotion of maidenly ignorance, she contended.

  "Nobody ever told me anything about so many interesting matters.Why, I remember--" And Guenevere narrated a quaintly pathetic littlestory, here irrelevant, of what had befallen her some three or fouryears earlier. "My mother was living then: but she had never said aword about such things, and frightened as I was, I did not go toher."

  Jurgen asked questions.

  "Why, yes. There was nothing else to do. I cannot talk freely withmy maids and ladies even now. I cannot question them, that is: ofcourse I can listen as they talk among themselves. For me to do morewould be unbecoming in a princess. And I wonder quietly about somany things!" She educed instances. "After that I used to notice theanimals and the poultry. So I worked out problems for myself, aftera fashion. But nobody ever told me anything directly."

  "Yet I dare say that Thragnar--well, the Troll King, being verywise, must have made zoology much clearer."

  "Thragnar was a skilled enchanter," says a demure voice in the dark;"and through the potency of his abominable arts, I can remembernothing whatever about Thragnar."

  Jurgen laughed, ruefully. Still, he was tolerably sure aboutThragnar now.

  So they talked: and Jurgen marvelled, as millions of men had doneaforetime, and have done since, at the girl's eagerness, now thatbarriers were down, to discuss in considerable detail all suchmatters as etiquette had previously compelled them to ignore. Abouther ladies in waiting, for example, she afforded him some verycurious data: and concerning men in general she asked innumerablequestions that Jurgen found delicious.

  Such innocence combined--upon the whole--with a certain moralobtuseness, seemed inconceivable. For to Jurgen it now appeared thatGuenevere was behaving with not quite the decorum which might fairlybe expected of a princess. Contrition, at least, one might havelooked for, over this hole and corner business: whereas it worriedhim to note that Guenevere was coming to accept affairs almost as amatter of course. Certainly she did not seem to think at all of anywickedness anywhere: the utmost she suggested was the necessity ofbeing very careful. And while she never contradicted him in theseprivate conversations, and submitted in everything to his judgment,her motive now appeared to be hardly more than a wish to please him.It was almost as though she were humoring him in his foolishness.And all this within six weeks! reflected Jurgen: and he nibbled hisfinger-nails, with a mental side-glance toward the opinions of KingGogyrvan Gawr.

  But in daylight the Princess remained unchanged. In daylight Jurgenadored her, but with no feeling of intimacy. Very rarely didoccasion serve for them to be actually alone in the day time. Onceor twice, though, he kissed her in open sunlight: and then her eyeswere melting but wary, and the whole affair was rather flat. She didnot repulse him: but she stayed a princess, appreciative of herstation, and seemed not at all the invisible person who talked withhim at night in the Hall of Judgment.

  Presently, by common consent, they began to avoid each other bydaylight. Indeed, the time of the Princess was now pre-occupied: fornow had come into Glathion a ship with saffron colored sails, andhaving for its figure-head a dragon that was painted with thirtycolors. Such was the ship which brought Messire Merlin Ambrosius andDame Anaitis, the Lady of the Lake, with a great retinue, to fetchyoung Guenevere to London, where she was to be married to KingArthur.

  First there was a week of feasting and tourneys and high mirth ofevery kind. Now the trumpets blared, and upon a scaffolding that wasgay with pennons and smart tapestries King Gogyrvan sat nodding andblinking in his brightest raiment, to judge who did the best: andinto the field came joyously a press of dukes and earls and baronsand many famous knights, to contend for honor and a trumpery chapletof pe
arls.

  Jurgen shrugged, and honored custom. The Duke of Logreus acquittedhimself with credit in the opening tournament, unhorsing Sir Dodinasle Sauvage, Earl Roth of Meliot, Sir Epinogris, and Sir Hector deMaris: then Earl Damas of Listenise smote like a whirlwind, andJurgen slid contentedly down the tail of his fine horse. His part inthe tournament was ended, and he was heartily glad of it. Hepreferred to contemplate rather than share in such festivities: andhe now followed his bent with a most exquisite misery, because heconsidered that never had any other poet occupied a situation morepicturesque.

  By day he was the Duke of Logreus, which in itself was a notableadvance upon pawnbroking: after nightfall he discounted the peculiarprivileges of a king. It was the secrecy, the deluding of everybody,which he especially enjoyed: and in the thought of what a monstrousclever fellow was Jurgen, he almost lost sight of the fact that hewas miserable over the impending marriage of the lady he loved.

  Once or twice he caught the tail-end of a glance from Gogyrvan'sbright old eye. Jurgen by this time abhorred Gogyrvan, as a personof abominably unjust dealings.

  "To take no better care of his own daughter," Jurgen considered, "isinfamous. The man is neglecting his duties as a father, and to dothat is not fair."