Jurgen: A Comedy of Justice

  29.

  Concerning Horvendile's Nonsense

  It was on a bright and tranquil day in November, at the period whichthe People of the Field called the summer of Alcyone, that Jurgenwent down from the forest; and after skirting the moats ofPseudopolis, and avoiding a meeting with any of the town'sdispiritingly glorious inhabitants, Jurgen came to the seashore.

  Chloris had suggested his doing this, in order that she could have achance to straighten things in his cabin while she was tidying hertree for the winter, and could so make one day's work serve for two.For the dryad of an oak-tree has large responsibilities, what withthe care of so many dead leaves all winter, and the acorns beingblown from their places and littering up the ground everywhere, andthe bark cracking until it looks positively disreputable: and Jurgenwas at any such work less a help than a hindrance. So Chloris gavehim a parcel of lunch and a perfunctory kiss, and told him to godown to the seashore and get inspired and make up a pretty poemabout her. "And do you be back in time for an early supper, Jurgen,"says she, "but not a minute before."

  Thus it befell that Jurgen reflectively ate his lunch in solitude,and regarded the Euxine. The sun was high, and the queer shadow thatfollowed Jurgen was huddled into shapelessness.

  "This is indeed an inspiring spectacle," Jurgen reflected. "How punyseems the race of man, in contrast with this mighty sea, which nowspreads before me like, as So-and-so has very strikingly observed, asomething or other under such and such conditions!" Then Jurgenshrugged. "Really, now I think of it, though, there is no call forme to be suffused with the traditional emotions. It looks like agreat deal of water, and like nothing else in particular. And Icannot but consider the water is behaving rather futilely."

  So he sat in drowsy contemplation of the sea. Far out a shadow wouldform on the water, like the shadow of a broadish plank, scuddingshoreward, and lengthening and darkening as it approached. Presentlyit would be some hundred feet in length, and would assume a hardsmooth darkness, like that of green stone: this was the under sideof the wave. Then the top of it would curdle, the southern end ofthe wave would collapse, and with exceeding swiftness this whitefeathery falling would plunge and scamper and bluster northward, thefull length of the wave. It would be neater and more workmanlike tohave each wave tumble down as a whole. From the smacking and thesplashing, what looked like boiling milk would thrust out over thebrown sleek sands: and as the mess spread it would thin to areticulated whiteness, like lace, and then to the appearance ofsmoke sprays clinging to the sands. Plainly the tide was coming in.

  Or perhaps it was going out. Jurgen's notions as to such phenomenawere vague. But, either way, the sea was stirring up a largecommotion and a rather pleasant and invigorating odor.

  And then all this would happen once more: and then it would happenyet again. It had happened a number of hundred of times since Jurgenfirst sat down to eat his lunch: and what was gained by it? The seawas behaving stupidly. There was no sense in this continual sloshingand spanking and scrabbling and spluttering.

  Thus Jurgen, as he nodded over the remnants of his lunch.

  "Sheer waste of energy, I am compelled to call it," said Jurgen,aloud, just as he noticed there were two other men on this longbeach.

  One came from the north, one from the south, so that they met notfar from where Jurgen was sitting: and by an incredible coincidenceJurgen had known both of these men in his first youth. So he hailedthem, and they recognized him at once. One of these travellers wasthe Horvendile who had been secretary to Count Emmerick when Jurgenwas a lad: and the other was Perion de la Foret, that outlaw who hadcome to Bellegarde very long ago disguised as the Vicomte dePuysange. And all three of these old acquaintances had kept theiryouth surprisingly.

  Now Horvendile and Perion marveled at the fine shirt which Jurgenwas wearing.

  "Why, you must know," he said, modestly, "that I have lately becomeKing of Eubonia, and must dress according to my station."

  So they said they had always expected some such high honor to befallhim, and then the three of them fell to talking. And Perion told howhe had come through Pseudopolis, on his way to King Theodoret atLacre Kai, and how in the market-place at Pseudopolis he had seenQueen Helen. "She is a very lovely lady," said Perion, "and Imarvelled over her resemblance to Count Emmerick's fair sister, whomwe all remember."

  "I noticed that at once," said Horvendile, and he smiled strangely,"when I, too, passed through the city."

  "Why, but nobody could fail to notice it," said Jurgen.

  "It is not, of course, that I consider her to be as lovely as DameMelicent," continued Perion, "since, as I have contended in allquarters of the world, there has never lived, and will never live,any woman so beautiful as Melicent. But you gentlemen appearsurprised by what seems to me a very simple statement. Your air, infine, is one that forces me to point out it is a statement I canpermit nobody to deny." And Perion's honest eyes had narrowedunpleasantly, and his sun-browned countenance was uncomfortablystern.

  "Dear sir," said Jurgen, hastily, "it was merely that it appeared tome the lady whom they call Queen Helen hereabouts is quite evidentlyCount Emmerick's sister Dorothy la Desiree."

  "Whereas I recognized her at once," says Horvendile, "as CountEmmerick's third sister, La Beale Ettarre."

  And now they stared at one another, for it was certain that thesethree sisters were not particularly alike.

  "Putting aside any question of eyesight," observes Perion, "it isindisputable that the language of both of you is distorted. For oneof you says this is Madame Dorothy, and the other says this isMadame Ettarre: whereas everybody knows that this Queen Helen,whomever she may resemble, cannot possibly be anybody else saveQueen Helen."

  "To you, who are always the same person," replied Jurgen, "that maysound reasonable. For my part, I am several people: and I detect noincongruity in other persons' resembling me."

  "There would be no incongruity anywhere," suggested Horvendile, "ifQueen Helen were the woman whom we had loved in vain. For the womanwhom when we were young we loved in vain is the one woman that wecan never see quite clearly, whatever happens. So we might easily, Isuppose, confuse her with some other woman."

  "But Melicent is the lady whom I have loved in vain," said Perion,"and I care nothing whatever about Queen Helen. Why should I? Whatdo you mean now, Horvendile, by your hints that I have faltered inmy constancy to Dame Melicent since I saw Queen Helen? I do not likesuch hints."

  "No less, it is Ettarre whom I love, and have loved not quite invain, and have loved unfalteringly," says Horvendile, with his quietsmile: "and I am certain that it was Ettarre whom I beheld when Ilooked upon Queen Helen."

  "I may confess," says Jurgen, clearing his throat, "that I havealways regarded Madame Dorothy with peculiar respect and admiration.For the rest, I am married. Even so, I think that Madame Dorothy isQueen Helen."

  Then they fell to debating this mystery. And presently Perion saidthe one way out was to leave the matter to Queen Helen. "She at allevents must know who she is. So do one of you go back into the city,and embrace her knees as is the custom of this country when oneimplores a favor of the King or the Queen: and do you then ask herfairly."

  "Not I," says Jurgen. "I am upon terms of some intimacy with ahamadryad just at present. I am content with my Hamadryad. And Iintend never to venture into the presence of Queen Helen any more,in order to preserve my contentment."

  "Why, but I cannot go," says Perion, "because Dame Melicent has alittle mole upon her left cheek. And Queen Helen's cheek isflawless. You understand, of course, that I am certain this moleimmeasurably enhances the beauty of Dame Melicent," he added,loyally. "None the less, I mean to hold no further traffic withQueen Helen."

  "Now my reason for not going is this," said Horvendile:--"that if Iattempted to embrace the knees of Ettarre, whom people hereaboutscall Helen, she would instantly vanish. Other matters apart, I donot wish to bring any such misfortune upon the Island of Leuke."

  "But that," said Perion, "is nonsense."
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  "Of course it is," said Horvendile. "That is probably why ithappens."

  So none of them would go. And each of them clung, none the less, tohis own opinion about Queen Helen. And presently Perion said theywere wasting both time and words. Then Perion bade the two farewell,and Perion continued southward, toward Lacre Kai. And as he went hesang a song in honor of Dame Melicent, whom he celebrated as Hearto' My Heart: and the two who heard him agreed that Perion de laForet was probably the worst poet in the world.

  "Nevertheless, there goes a very chivalrous and worthy gentleman,"said Horvendile, "intent to play out the remainder of his romance. Iwonder if the Author gets much pleasure from these simplecharacters? At least they must be easy to handle."

  "I cultivate a judicious amount of gallantry," says Jurgen: "I donot any longer aspire to be chivalrous. And indeed, Horvendile, itseems to me indisputable that each one of us is the hero in his ownromance, and cannot understand any other person's romance, butmisinterprets everything therein, very much as we three have fallenout in the simple matter of a woman's face."

  Now young Horvendile meditatively stroked his own curly and reddishhair, brushing it away from his ears with his left hand, as he satthere staring meditatively at nothing in particular.

  "I would put it, Jurgen, that we three have met like characters outof three separate romances which the Author has composed indifferent styles."

  "That also," Jurgen submitted, "would be nonsense."

  "Ah, but perhaps the Author very often perpetrates nonsense. ComeJurgen, you who are King of Eubonia!" says Horvendile, with hiswide-set eyes a-twinkle; "what is there in you or me to attest thatour Author has not composed our romances with his tongue in hischeek?"

  "Messire Horvendile, if you are attempting to joke about Koshcheiwho made all things as they are, I warn you I do not consider thatsort of humor very wholesome. Without being prudish, I believe incommon-sense: and I would vastly prefer to have you talk aboutsomething else."

  Horvendile was still smiling. "You look some day to come toKoshchei, as you call the Author. That is easily said, and soundsexcellently. Ah, but how will you recognize Koshchei? and how do youknow you have not already passed by Koshchei in some street ormeadow? Come now, King Jurgen," said Horvendile, and still his youngface wore an impish smile; "come tell me, how do you know that I amnot Koshchei who made all things as they are?"

  "Be off with you!" says Jurgen; "you would never have had the wit toinvent a Jurgen. Something else is troubling me: I have justrecollected that the young Perion who left us only a moment since,grew to be rich and gray-headed and famous, and took Dame Melicentfrom her pagan husband, and married her himself: and that all thishappened long years ago. So our recent talk with young Perion seemsvery improbable."

  "Why, but do you not remember, too, that I ran away in the nightwhen Maugis d'Aigremont stormed Storisende? and was never heard ofany more? and that all this, too, took place a long, long while ago?Yet we have met as three fine young fellows, here on the beach offabulous Leuke. I put it to you fairly, King Jurgen: now how couldthis conceivably have come about unless the Author sometimescomposes nonsense?"

  "Truly the way that you express it, Horvendile, the thing does seema little strange; and I can think of no explanation rendering itplausible."

  "Again, see now, King Jurgen of Eubonia, how you underrate theAuthor's ability. This is one of the romancer's most venerabledevices that is being practised. See for yourself!" And suddenlyHorvendile pushed Jurgen so that Jurgen tumbled over in the warmsand.

  Then Jurgen arose, gaping and stretching himself. "That was a veryfoolish dream I had, napping here in the sun. For it was certainly adream. Otherwise, they would have left footprints, these youngfellows who have gone the way of youth so long ago. And it was adream that had no sense in it. But indeed it would be strange ifthat were the whole point of it, and if living, too, were such adream, as that queer Horvendile would have me think."

  Jurgen snapped his fingers.

  "Well, and what in common fairness could he or anyone else expect meto do about it! That is the answer I fling at you, you Horvendilewhom I made up in a dream. And I disown you as the most futile of myinventions. So be off with you! and a good riddance, too, for Inever held with upsetting people."

  Then Jurgen dusted himself, and trudged home to an early supper withthe Hamadryad who contented him.