13.
Philosophy of Gogyrvan Gawr
At Cameliard the young Duke of Logreus spent most of his time in thecompany of Guenevere, whose father made no objection overtly.Gogyrvan had his promised talk with Jurgen.
"I lament that Dame Yolande dealt over-thriftily with you," the Kingsaid, first of all: "for I estimated you two would be as spark andtinder, kindling between you an amorous conflagration to burn up allthis nonsense about my daughter."
"Thrift, sir," said Jurgen, discreetly, "is a proverbial virtue, andfires may not consume true love."
"That is the truth," Gogyrvan admitted, "whoever says it." And hesighed.
Then for a while he sat in nodding meditation. Tonight the old Kingwore a disreputably rusty gown of black stuff, with fur about theneck and sleeves of it, and his scant white hair was covered by avery shabby black cap. So he huddled over a small fire in a largestone fireplace carved with shields; beside him was white wine andred, which stayed untasted while Gogyrvan meditated upon things thatfretted him.
"Now, then!" says Gogyrvan Gawr: "this marriage with the high Kingof the Britons must go forward, of course. That was settled lastyear, when Arthur and his devil-mongers, the Lady of the Lake andMerlin Ambrosius, were at some pains to rescue me at Carohaise. Iestimate that Arthur's ambassadors, probably the devil-mongersthemselves, will come for my daughter before June is out. Meanwhile,you two have youth and love for playthings, and it is spring."
"What is the season of the year to me," groaned Jurgen, "when Ireflect that within a week or so the lady of my heart will be borneaway from me forever? How can I be happy, when all the while I knowthe long years of misery and vain regret are near at hand?"
"You are saying that," observed the King, "in part because you dranktoo much last night, and in part because you think it is expected ofyou. For in point of fact, you are as happy as anyone is permittedto be in this world, through the simple reason that you are young.Misery, as you employ the word, I consider to be a poetical trophe:but I can assure you that the moment you are no longer young theyears of vain regret will begin, either way."
"That is true," said Jurgen, heartily.
"How do you know? Now then, put it I were insane enough to marry mydaughter to a mere duke, you would grow damnably tired of her: I canassure you of that also, for in disposition Guenevere is her saintedmother all over again. She is nice looking, of course, because inthat she takes after my side of the family: but, between ourselves,she is not particularly intelligent, and she will always be makingeyes at some man or another. To-day it appears to be your turn toserve as her target, in a fine glittering shirt of which the likewas never seen in Glathion. I deplore, but even so I cannot deny,your rights as the champion who rescued her: and I must bid you makethe most of that turn."
"Meanwhile, it occurs to me, sir, that it is unusual to betroth yourdaughter to one man, and permit her to go freely with another."
"If you insist upon it," said Gogyrvan Gawr, "I can of course lockup the pair of you, in separate dungeons, until the wedding day.Meanwhile, it occurs to me you should be the last commentator togrumble."
"Why, I tell you plainly, sir, that critical persons would say youare taking very small care of your daughter's honor."
"To that there are several answers," replied the King. "One is thatI remember my late wife as tenderly as possible, and I reflect Ihave only her word for it as to Guenevere's being my daughter.Another is that, though my daughter is a quiet and well-conductedyoung woman, I never heard King Thragnar was anything of this sort."
"Oh, sir," said Jurgen, horrified, "whatever are you hinting!"
"All sorts of things, however, happen in caves, things which it iswiser to ignore in sunlight. So I ignore: I ask no questions: mybusiness is to marry my daughter acceptably, and that only. Suchdiscoveries as may be made by her husband afterward are his affair,not mine. This much I might tell you, Messire de Logreus, by way ofanswer. But the real answer is to bid you consider this: that awoman's honor is concerned with one thing only, and it is a thingwith which the honor of a man is not concerned at all."
"But now you talk in riddles, King, and I wonder what it is youwould have me do."
Gogyrvan grinned. "Obviously, I advise you to give thanks you wereborn a man, because that sturdier sex has so much less need tobother over breakage."
"What sort of breakage, sir?" says Jurgen.
Gogyrvan told him.
Duke Jurgen for the second time looked properly horrified. "Youraphorisms, King, are abominable, and of a sort unlikely to quiet mymisery. However, we were speaking of your daughter, and it is shewho must be considered rather than I."
"Now I perceive that you take my meaning perfectly. Yes, in allmatters which concern my daughter I would have you lie like agentleman."
"Well, I am afraid, sir," said Jurgen, after a pause, "that you area person of somewhat degraded ideals."
"Ah, but you are young. Youth can afford ideals, being vigorousenough to stand the hard knocks they earn their possessor. But I aman old fellow cursed with a tender heart and tolerably keen eyes.That combination, Messire de Logreus, is one which very often forcesme to jeer out of season, simply because I know myself to be uponthe verge of far more untimely tears."
Thus Gogyrvan replied. He was silent for a while, and hecontemplated the fire. Then he waved a shriveled hand toward thewindow, and Gogyrvan began to speak, meditatively:
"Messire de Logreus, it is night in my city of Cameliard. Andsomewhere one of those roofs harbors a girl whom we will callLynette. She has a lover--we will say he is called Sagramor. Thenames do not matter. Tonight, as I speak with you, Lynette liesmotionless in the carved wide bed that formerly was her mother's.She is thinking of Sagramor. The room is dark save where moonlightsilvers the diamond-shaped panes of ancient windows. In every cornerof the room mysterious quivering suggestions lurk."
"Ah, sire," says Jurgen, "you also are a poet!"
"Do not interrupt me, then! Lynette, I repeat, is thinking of Sagramor.Again they sit near the lake, under an apple-tree older than Rome.The knotted branches of the tree are upraised as in benediction:and petals--petals, fluttering, drifting, turning,--interminable whitepetals fall silently in the stillness. Neither speaks: for there is noneed. Silently he brushes a petal from the blackness of her hair, andsilently he kisses her. The lake is dusky and hard-seeming as jade.Two lonely stars hang low in the green sky. It is droll that the chestof a man is hairy, oh, very droll! And a bird is singing, a silveryneedle of sound moves fitfully in the stillness. Surely high Heavenis thus quietly colored and thus strangely lovely. So at least thinkslittle Lynette, lying motionless like a little mouse, in the carvedwide bed wherein Lynette was born."
"A very moving touch, that," Jurgen interpolated.
"Now, there is another sort of singing: for now the pot-housecloses, big shutters bang, feet shuffle, a drunken man hiccoughs inhis singing. It is a love-song he is murdering. He shedsinexplicable tears as he lurches nearer and nearer to Lynette'swindow, and his heart is all magnanimity, for Sagramor iscelebrating his latest conquest. Do you not think that this orsomething very like this is happening to-night in my city ofCameliard, Messire de Logreus?".
"It happens momently," said Jurgen, "everywhere. For thus is everywoman for a little while, and thus is every man for all time."
"That being a dreadful truth," continued Gogyrvan, "you may take itas one of the many reasons why I jeer out of season in order tostave off far more untimely tears. For this thing happens: in mycity it happens, and in my castle it happens. King or no, I ampowerless to prevent its happening. So I can but shrug and heartenmy old blood with a fresh bottle. No less, I regard the young woman,who is quite possibly my daughter, with considerable affection: andit would be salutary for you to remember that circumstance, Messirede Logreus, if ever you are tempted to be candid."
Jurgen was horrified. "But with the Princess, sir, it is unthinkablethat I should not deal fairly."
King Gogyrvan continued to
look at Jurgen. Gogyrvan Gawr saidnothing, and not a muscle of him moved.
"Although of course," said Jurgen, "I would, in simple justice toher, not ever consider volunteering any information likely to causepain."
"Again I perceive," said Gogyrvan, "that you understand me. Yet Idid not speak of my daughter only, but of everybody."
"How then, sir, would you have me deal with everybody?"
"Why, I can but repeat my words," says Gogyrvan, very patiently: "Iwould have you lie like a gentleman. And now be off with you, for Iam going to sleep. I shall not be wide awake again until my daughteris safely married. And that is absolutely all I can do for you."
"Do you think this is reputable conduct, King?"
"Oh, no!" says Gogyrvan, surprised. "It is what we callphilanthropy."