14.
Preliminary Tactics of Duke Jurgen
So Jurgen abode at court, and was tolerably content for a littlewhile. He loved a princess, the fairest and most perfect of mortalwomen; and loved her (a circumstance to which he frequentlyrecurred) as never any other man had loved in the world's history:and very shortly he was to stand by and see her married to another.Here was a situation to delight the chivalrous court of Glathion,for every requirement of romance was exactly fulfilled.
Now the appearance of Guenevere, whom Jurgen loved with an entireheart, was this:--She was of middling height, with a figure not yetwholly the figure of a woman. She had fine and very thick hair, andthe color of it was the yellow of corn floss. When Guenevere undidher hair it was a marvel to Jurgen to note how snugly this hairdescended about the small head and slender throat, and thenbroadened boldly and clothed her with a loose soft foam of pallidgold. For Jurgen delighted in her hair; and with increasingintimacy, loved to draw great strands of it back of his head,crossing them there, and pressing soft handfuls of her perfumed hairagainst his cheeks as he kissed the Princess.
The head of Guenevere, be it repeated, was small: you wondered atthe proud free tossing movements of that little head which had tosustain the weight of so much hair. The face of Guenevere wascolored tenderly and softly: it made the faces of other women seemthe work of a sign-painter, just splotched in anyhow. Gray eyes hadGuenevere, veiled by incredibly long black lashes that curvedincredibly. Her brows arched rather high above her eyes: that wasalmost a fault. Her nose was delicate and saucy: her chin wasimpudence made flesh: and her mouth was a tiny and irresistibletemptation.
"And so on, and so on! But indeed there is no sense at all indescribing this lovely girl as though I were taking an inventory ofmy shopwindow," said Jurgen. "Analogues are all very well, and theyhave the unanswerable sanction of custom: none the less, when Iproclaim that my adored mistress's hair reminds me of gold I amquite consciously lying. It looks like yellow hair, and nothingelse: nor would I willingly venture within ten feet of any womanwhose head sprouted with wires, of whatever metal. And to protestthat her eyes are as gray and fathomless as the sea is very wellalso, and the sort of thing which seems expected of me: but imaginehow horrific would be puddles of water slopping about in a lady'seye-sockets! If we poets could actually behold the monsters we rhymeof, we would scream and run. Still, I rather like this sirvente."
For he was making a sirvente in praise of Guenevere. It was thepleasant custom of Gogyrvan's court that every gentleman mustcompose verses in honor of the lady of whom he was hopelesslyenamored; as well as that in these verses he should address the lady(as one whose name was too sacred to mention) otherwise than did hersponsors. So Duke Jurgen of Logreus duly rhapsodized of hisPhyllida.
"I borrow for my dear love the appellation of that noted but by muchinferior lady who was beloved by Ariphus of Belsize," he explained."You will remember Poliger suspects she was a princess of the house ofScleroveus: and you of course recall Pisander's masterly summing-up ofthe probabilities, in his _Heraclea_."
"Oh, yes," they said. And the courtiers of Gogyrvan Gawr, likeMother Sereda, were greatly impressed by young Duke Jurgen'serudition.
For Jurgen was Duke of Logreus nowadays, with his glittering shirtand the coronet upon his bridle to show for it. Awkwardly thisproved to be an earl's coronet, but incongruities are not alwaysinexplicable.
"It was Earl Giarmuid's horse. You have doubtless heard of Giarmuid:but to ask that is insulting."
"Oh, not at all. It is humor. We perfectly understand your humor,Duke Jurgen."
"And a very pretty fighter I found this famous Giarmuid as Itraveled westward. And since he killed my steed in the heat of ourconversation, I was compelled to take over his horse, after I hadgiven this poor Giarmuid proper interment. Oh, yes, a very prettyfighter, and I had heard much talk of him in Logreus. He was Lord ofOre and Persaunt, you remember, though of course the estate came byhis mother's side."
"Oh, yes," they said. "You must not think that we of Glathion arequite shut out from the great world. We have heard of all theseaffairs. And we have also heard fine things of your duchy ofLogreus, messire."
"Doubtless," said Jurgen; and turned again to his singing.
"Lo, for I pray to thee, resistless Love," he descanted, "that thouto-day make cry unto my love, to Phyllida whom I, poor Logreus, loveso tenderly, not to deny me love! Asked why, say thou my drink andfood is love, in days wherein I think and brood on love, and trulyfind naught good in aught save love, since Phyllida hath taught mehow to love."
Here Jurgen groaned with nicely modulated ardor; and he continued:"If she avow such constant hate of love as would ignore my great andconstant love, plead thou no more! With listless lore of love wooDeath resistlessly, resistless Love, in place of her that saith suchscorn of love as lends to Death the lure and grace I love."
Thus Jurgen sang melodiously of his Phyllida, and meant thereby (aseverybody knew) the Princess Guenevere. Since custom compelled himto deal in analogues, he dealt wholesale. Gems and metals, theblossoms of the field and garden, fires and wounds and sunrises andperfumes, an armory of lethal weapons, ice and a concourse ofmythological deities were his starting-point. Then the seasand heavens were dredged of phenomena to be mentioned withdisparagement, in comparison with one or another feature of DukeJurgen's Phyllida. Zoology and history, and generally the rememberedcontents of his pawnshop, were overhauled and made to furnishtargets for depreciation: whereas in dealing with the famous ladiesloved by earlier poets, Duke Jurgen was positively insulting,allowing hardly a rag of merit. Still, he was careful to be just:and he allowed that these poor creatures might figure advantageouslyenough in eyes which had never beheld his Phyllida. And to all thisinformation the lady whom he hymned attended willingly.
"She is a princess," reflected Jurgen. "She is quite beautiful. Sheis young, and whatever her father's opinion, she is reasonablyintelligent, as women go. Nobody could ask more. Why, then, am I notout of my head about her? Already she permits a kiss or two whennobody is around, and presently she will permit more. And she thinksI am quite the cleverest person living. Come, Jurgen, man! is thereno heart in this spry young body you have regained? Come, let ushave a little honest rapture and excitement over this promisingsituation!"
But somehow Jurgen could not manage it. He was interested in what,he knew, was going to happen. Yes, undoubtedly he looked forward tomore intimate converse with this beautiful young princess, but itwas rather as one anticipates partaking of a favorite dessert.Jurgen felt that a liaison arranged for in this spirit was neitherone thing or the other.
"If only I could feel like a cold-blooded villain, now, I would atworst be classifiable. But I intend the girl no harm, I am honestlyfond of her. I shall talk my best, broaden her ideas, and give her,I flatter myself, considerable pleasure: vulgar prejudices apart, Ishall leave her no whit the worse. Why, the dear little thing, notfor the ransom of seven emperors would I do her any hurt! And inthese matters discretion is everything, simply everything. No, quitedecidedly, I am not a cold-blooded villain; and I shall deal fairlywith the Princess."
Thus Jurgen was disappointed by his own emotions, as he turned themfrom side to side, and prodded them, and shifted to a freshviewpoint, only to find it no more favorable than the onerelinquished: but he veiled the inadequacy of his emotions with verymoving fervors. The tale does not record his conversations withGuenevere: for Jurgen now discoursed plain idiocy, as one purveyssweetmeats to a child in fond astonishment at the pet's appetite.And leisurely Jurgen advanced: there was no hurry, with weekswherein to accomplish everything: meanwhile this routine work had afamiliar pleasantness.
For the amateur co-ordinates matters, knowing that one thingaxiomatically leads to another. There is no harm at all inrespectful allusions to a love that comprehends its hopelessness: itwas merely a fact which Jurgen mentioned, and was about to pass on;only Guenevere, in modesty, was forced to disparage her ownattractions, as an inadequate ca
use for so much misery. Commoncourtesy demanded that Jurgen enter upon a rebuttal. To emphasizeone point in this, the orator was forced to take the hand of hisaudience: but strangers did that every day, with nobody objecting;moreover, the hand was here, not so much seized as displayed by itsdetainer, as evidence of what he contended. How else was he to provethe Princess of Glathion had the loveliest hand in the world? It wasnot a matter he could request Guenevere to accept on hearsay: andJurgen wanted to deal fairly with her.
Well, but before relinquishing the loveliest hand in the world aconnoisseur will naturally kiss each fingertip: this is merely atribute to perfection, and has no personal application. Besides, akiss, wherever deposited, as Jurgen pointed out, is, when you thinkof it, but a ceremonial, of no intrinsic wrongfulness. The girldemurring against this apothegm--as custom again exacted,--was,still in common fairness, convinced of her error. So now, saysJurgen presently, you see for yourself. Is anything changed betweenus? Do we not sit here, just as we were before? Why, to be sure! akiss is now attestedly a quite innocuous performance, with nothingvery fearful about it one way or the other. It even has its pleasantside. Thus there is no need to make a pother over kisses or over anarm about you, when it is more comfortable sitting so: how can onereasonably deny to a sincere friend what is accorded to a cousin oran old cloak? It would be nonsense, as Jurgen demonstrated with avery apt citation from Napsacus.
Then, sitting so, in the heat of conversation a speaker naturallygesticulates: and a deal of his eloquence is dependent upon hishands. When anyone is talking it is discourteous to interrupt,whereas to lay hold of a gentleman's hand outright, as Jurgenparenthesized, is a little forward. No, he really did not think itwould be quite proper for Guenevere to hold his hand. Let uspreserve decorum, even in trifles.
"Ah, but you know that you are doing wrong!"
"I doing wrong! I, who am simply sitting here and talking my poorbest in an effort to entertain you! Come now, Princess, but tell mewhat you mean!"
"You should know very well what I mean."
"But I protest to you I have not the least notion. How can Ipossibly know what you mean when you refuse to tell me what youmean?"
And since the Princess declined to put into words just what shemeant, things stayed as they were, for the while.
Thus did Jurgen co-ordinate matters, knowing that one thingaxiomatically leads to another. And in short, affairs sped very muchas Jurgen had anticipated.
Now, by ordinary, Jurgen talked with Guenevere in dimly lightedplaces. He preferred this, because then he was not bothered by thatunaccountable shadow whose presence in sunlight put him out. Nobodyever seemed to notice this preposterous shadow; it was patent,indeed, that nobody could see it save Jurgen: none the less, thething worried him. So even from the first he remembered Guenevere asa soft voice and a delectable perfume in twilight, as a beauty notclearly visioned.
And Gogyrvan's people worried him. The hook-nosed tall old King hadbeen by Jurgen dismissed from thought, as an enigma not importantenough to be worth the trouble of solving. Gogyrvan at once seemedto be schooling himself to patience under some private annoyance andto be revolving in his mind some private jest; he was queer, andprobably abominable: but to grant the old rascal his due, he was notmeddlesome.
The people about Gogyrvan, though, were perplexing. These men whoconsidered that all you possessed was loaned you to devote to theservice of your God, your King and every woman who crossed yourpath, could hardly be behaving rationally. To talk of serving Godsounded as sonorously and as inspiritingly as a drum: yes, and adrum had nothing but air in it. The priests said so-and-so: but didanybody believe the gallant Bishop of Merion, for example, wasalways to be depended upon?
"I would like the opinion of Prince Evrawc's wife as to that," saidJurgen, with a grin. For it was well-known that all affairs betweenthis Dame Alundyne and the Bishop were so discreetly managed as toafford no reason for any scandal whatever.
As for serving the King, there in plain view was Gogyrvan Gawr, foranyone who so elected, to regard and grow enthusiastic over:Gogyrvan might be shrewd enough, but to Jurgen he suggested verylittle of the Lord's anointed. To the contrary, he reminded you ofJurgen's brother-in-law, the grocer, without being graced by thetradesman's friendly interest in customers. Gogyrvan Gawr was aperson whom Jurgen simply could not imagine any intelligent Deityselecting as steward. And finally, when it came to serving women,what sort of service did women most cordially appreciate? Jurgen hadhis answer pat enough, but it was an answer not suitable forutterance in a mixed company.
"No one of my honest opinions, in fact, is adapted to further mypopularity in Glathion, because I am a monstrous clever fellow whodoes justice to things as they are. Therefore I must rememberalways, in justice to myself, that I very probably hold traffic withmadmen. Yet Rome was a fine town, and it was geese who saved it.These people may be right; and certainly I cannot go so far as tosay they are wrong: but still, at the same time--! Yes, that is howI feel about it."
Thus did Jurgen abide at the chivalrous court of Glathion, andconform to all its customs. In the matter of love-songs nobodyprotested more movingly that the lady whom he loved (quitehopelessly, of course), embodied all divine perfections: and when itcame to knightly service, the possession of Caliburn made thedespatching of thieves and giants and dragons seem hardlysportsmanlike. Still, Jurgen fought a little, now and then, in orderto conform to the customs of Glathion: and the Duke of Logreus waswidely praised as a very promising young knight.
And all the while he fretted because he could just dimly perceivethat ideal which was served in Glathion, and the beauty of thisideal, but could not possibly believe in it. Here was, again, aloveliness perceived in twilight, a beauty not clearly visioned.
"Yet am not I a monstrous clever fellow," he would console himself,"to take them all in so completely? It is a joke to which, I think,I do full justice."
So Jurgen abode among these persons to whom life was a high-heartedjourneying homeward. God the Father awaited you there, ready topunish at need, but eager to forgive, after the manner of allfathers: that one became a little soiled in traveling, and sometimesblundered into the wrong lane, was a matter which fathersunderstood: meanwhile here was an ever-present reminder of Hisperfection incarnated in woman, the finest and the noblest of Hiscreations. Thus was every woman a symbol to be honored magnanimouslyand reverently. So said they all.
"Why, but to be sure!" assented Jurgen. And in support of hisposition he very edifyingly quoted Ophelion, and Fabianus Papirius,and Sextius Niger to boot.