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

of me is love, and from me now love emanates.”

“But certainly I heard somebody approaching through the forest⁠—”

“Well, and do you not perceive I have withdrawn my staff from its hiding-place?”

“Ah, you have great faith in that staff of yours!”

“I fear nobody when I brandish it.”

Another locust had answered the first one. Now the two insects were in full dispute, suffusing the warm darkness with their pertinacious whirrings.

“King of Eubonia, it is certainly true, that which you told me about olives.”

“Yes, for always love begets truthfulness.”

“I pray it may beget between us utter truthfulness, and nothing else, King Jurgen.”

“Not ‘Jurgen’ now, but ‘love.’ ”

“Indeed, they tell that even so, in such deep darkness, Love came to his sweetheart Psychê.”

“Then why do you complain because I piously emulate the Gods, and offer unto Love the sincerest form of flattery?” And Jurgen shook his staff at her.

“Ah, but you are strangely ready with your flattery! and Love threatened Psychê with no such enormous staff.”

“That is possible: for I am Jurgen. And I deal fairly with all women, and raise my staff against none save in the way of kindness.”

So they talked nonsense, in utter darkness, while the locusts, and presently a score of locusts, disputed obstinately. Now Chloris and Jurgen were invisible, even to each other, as they talked under her oak-tree: but before them the fields shone mistily under a gold-dusted dome, for this night seemed builded of stars. And the white towers of Pseudopolis also could Jurgen see, as he laughed there and took his pleasure with Chloris. He reflected that very probably Achilles and Helen were laughing thus, and were not dissimilarly occupied, out yonder, in this night of wonder.

He sighed. But in a while Jurgen and the Hamadryad were speaking again, just as inconsequently, and the locusts were whirring just as obstinately. Later the moon rose, and they all slept.

With the dawn Jurgen arose, and left this Hamadryad Chloris still asleep. He stood where he overlooked the city and the shirt of Nessus glittered in the level sun rays: and Jurgen thought of Queen Helen. Then he sighed, and went back to Chloris and wakened her with the sort of salutation that appeared her just due.

XXVIII Of Compromises in Leukê

Now the tale tells that ten days later Jurgen and his Hamadryad were duly married, in consonance with the law of the Wood: not for a moment did Chloris consider any violation of the proprieties, so they were married the first evening she could assemble her kindred.

“Still, Chloris, I already have two wives,” says Jurgen, “and it is but fair to confess it.”

“I thought it was only yesterday you arrived in Leukê.”

“That is true: for I came with the Equinox, over the long sea.”

“Then Jugatinus has not had time to marry you to anybody, and certainly he would never think of marrying you to two wives. Why do you talk such nonsense?”

“No, it is true, I was not married by Jugatinus.”

“So there!” says Chloris, as if that settled matters. “Now you see for yourself.”

“Why, yes, to be sure,” says Jurgen, “that does put rather a different light upon it, now I think of it.”

“It makes all the difference in the world.”

“I would hardly go that far. Still, I perceive it makes a difference.”

“Why, you talk as if everybody did not know that Jugatinus marries people!”

“No, dear, let us be fair! I did not say precisely that.”

“⁠—And as if everybody was not always married by Jugatinus!”

“Yes, here in Leukê, perhaps. But outside of Leukê, you understand, my darling!”

“But nobody goes outside of Leukê. Nobody ever thinks of leaving Leukê. I never heard such nonsense.”

“You mean, nobody ever leaves this island?”

“Nobody that you ever hear of. Of course, there are Lares and Penates, with no social position, that the kings of Pseudopolis sometimes take a-voyaging⁠—”

“Still, the people of other countries do get married.”

“No, Jurgen,” said Chloris, sadly, “it is a rule with Jugatinus never to leave the island; and indeed I am sure he has never even considered such unheard-of conduct: so, of course, the people of other countries are not able to get married.”

“Well, but, Chloris, in Eubonia⁠—”

“Now if you do not mind, dear, I think we had better talk about something more pleasant. I do not blame you men of Eubonia, because all men are in such matters perfectly irresponsible. And perhaps it is not altogether the fault of the women, either, though I do think any really self-respecting woman would have the strength of character to keep out of such irregular relations, and that much I am compelled to say. So do not let us talk any more about these persons whom you describe as your wives. It is very nice of you, dear, to call them that, and I appreciate your delicacy. Still, I really do believe we had better talk about something else.”

Jurgen deliberated. “Yet do you not think, Chloris, that in the absence of Jugatinus⁠—and in, as I understand it, the unavoidable absence of Jugatinus⁠—somebody else might perform the ceremony?”

“Oh, yes, if they wanted to. But it would not count. Nobody but Jugatinus can really marry people. And so of course nobody else does.”

“What makes you sure of that?”

“Why, because,” said Chloris, triumphantly, “nobody ever heard of such a thing.”

“You have voiced,” said Jurgen, “an entire code of philosophy. Let us by all means go to Jugatinus and be married.”

So they were married by Jugatinus, according to the ceremony with which the People of the Wood were always married by Jugatinus. First Virgo loosed the girdle of Chloris in such fashion as was customary; and Chloris, after sitting much longer than Jurgen liked in the lap of Mutinus (who was in the state that custom required of him) was led back to Jurgen by Domiducus in accordance with immemorial custom; Subigo did her customary part; then Praema grasped the bride’s plump arms: and everything was perfectly regular.

Thereafter Jurgen disposed of his staff in the way Thersitês had directed: and thereafter