Jurgen, James Branch Cabell [ebook reader computer .txt] 📗

very happy, my dear. For surely you deserve a princess if ever any man did.”

Jurgen shook his head. “It is astounding that a demon so much talked about should be so poor an impersonator. It raises the staggering supposition that the majority of married women must go to Heaven. As for your ring, I am not accepting gifts this morning, from anyone. But you understand, I trust, that I am hopelessly enamored of the Princess on account of her beauty.”

“Oh, and I cannot blame you, my dear. She is the loveliest person I have ever seen.”

“Hah, Thragnar!” says Jurgen, “I have you now. A woman might, just possibly, have granted her own homeliness: but no woman that ever breathed would have conceded the Princess had a ray of good looks.”

So with Caliburn he smote, and struck off the head of this thing which foolishly pretended to be Dame Lisa.

“Well done! oh, bravely done!” cried Guenevere. “Now the enchantment is dissolved, and Thragnar is slain by my clever champion.”

“I could wish there were some surer sign of that,” said Jurgen. “I would have preferred that the pavilion and the decapitated Troll King had vanished with a peal of thunder and an earthquake and such other phenomena as are customary. Instead, nothing is changed except that the woman who was talking to me a moment since now lies at my feet in a very untidy condition. You conceive, madame, I used to tease her about that twisted little-finger, in the days before we began to squabble: and it annoys me that Thragnar should not have omitted even Lisa’s crooked little-finger on her left hand. Yes, such painstaking carefulness worries me. For you conceive also, madame, it would be more or less awkward if I had made an error, and if the appearance were in reality what it seemed to be, because I was pretty trying sometimes. At all events, I have done that which seemed equitable, and I have found no comfort in the doing of it, and I do not like this place.”

XI Appearance of the Duke of Logreus

So Jurgen brushed from the table the chessmen that were set there in readiness for a game, and he emptied the silver flagons upon the ground. His reasons for not meddling with the horn he explained to the Princess: she shivered, and said that, such being the case, he was certainly very sensible. Then they mounted, and departed from the black and silver pavilion. They came thus without further adventure to Gogyrvan Gawr’s city of Cameliard.

Now there was shouting and the bells all rang when the people knew their Princess was returned to them: the houses were hung with painted cloths and banners, and trumpets sounded, as Guenevere and Jurgen came to the King in his Hall of Judgment. And this Gogyrvan, that was King of Glathion and Lord of Enisgarth and Camwy and Sargyll, came down from his wide throne, and he embraced first Guenevere, then Jurgen.

“And demand of me what you will, Duke of Logreus,” said Gogyrvan, when he had heard the champion’s name, “and it is yours for the asking. For you have restored to me the best loved daughter that ever was the pride of a high king.”

“Sir,” replied Jurgen, reasonably, “a service rendered so gladly should be its own reward. So I am asking that you do in turn restore to me the Princess Guenevere, in honorable marriage, do you understand, because I am a poor lorn widower, I am tolerably certain, but I am quite certain I love your daughter with my whole heart.”

Thus Jurgen, whose periods were confused by emotion.

“I do not see what the condition of your heart has to do with any such unreasonable request. And you have no good sense to be asking this thing of me when here are the servants of Arthur, that is now King of the Britons, come to ask for my daughter as his wife. That you are Duke of Logreus you tell me, and I concede a duke is all very well: but I expect you in return to concede a king takes precedence, with any man whose daughter is marriageable. But tomorrow or the next day it may be, you and I will talk over your reward more privately. Meanwhile it is very queer and very frightened you are looking, to be the champion who conquered Thragnar.”

For Jurgen was staring at the great mirror behind the King’s throne. In this mirror Jurgen saw the back of Gogyrvan’s crowned head, and beyond this, Jurgen saw a queer and frightened looking young fellow, with sleek black hair, and an impudent nose, and wide-open bright brown eyes which were staring hard at Jurgen: and the lad’s very red and very heavy lips were parted, so that you saw what fine strong teeth he had: and he wore a glittering shirt with curious figures on it.

“I was thinking,” says Jurgen, and he saw the lad in the mirror was speaking too, “I was thinking that is a remarkable mirror you have there.”

“It is like any other mirror,” replies the King, “in that it shows things as they are. But if you fancy it as your reward, why, take it and welcome.”

“And are you still talking of rewards!” cries Jurgen. “Why, if that mirror shows things as they are, I have come out of my borrowed Wednesday still twenty-one. Oh, but it was the clever fellow I was, to flatter Mother Sereda so cunningly, and to fool her into such generosity! And I wonder that you who are only a king, with bleared eyes under your crown, and with a drooping belly under all your royal robes, should be talking of rewarding a fine young fellow of twenty-one, for there is nothing you have which I need be wanting now.”

“Then you will not be plaguing me any more with your nonsense about my daughter: and that is excellent news.”

“But I have no requirement to be