And the tale tells how Perion sailed with his retainers to seek

desperate service under the harried Kaiser of the Greeks.

This venture was ill-fated, since, as the Free Companions were passing

not far from Masillia, their vessel being at the time becalmed, they

were attacked by three pagan galleys under the admiralty of the

proconsul Demetrios. Perion's men, who fought so hardily on land, were

novices at sea. They were powerless against an adversary who, from a

great distance, showered liquid fire upon their vessel.

Then Demetrios sent little boats and took some thirty prisoners from

the blazing ship, and made slaves of all save Ahasuerus the Jew, whom

he released on being informed of the lean man's religion. It was a

customary boast of this Demetrios that he made war on Christians only.

And presently, as Perion had commanded, Ahasuerus came to Melicent.

The princess sat in a high chair, the back of which was capped with a

big lion's head in brass. It gleamed above her head, but was less

glorious than her bright hair.

Ahasuerus made dispassionate report. "Thus painfully I have delivered,

as my task was, these fine messages concerning Faith and Love and Death

and so on. Touching their rationality I may reserve my own opinion. I

am merely Perion's echo. Do I echo madness? This madman was my loved

and honoured master once, a lord without any peer in the fields where

men contend in battle. To-day those sinews which preserved a throne are

dedicated to the transportation of luggage. Grant it is laughable. I do

not laugh."

"And I lack time to weep," said Melicent.

So, when the Jew had told his tale and gone, young Melicent arose and

went into a chamber painted with the histories of Jason and Medea,

where her brother Count Emmerick hid such jewels as had not many equals

in Christendom.

She did not hesitate. She took no thought for her brother, she did not

remember her loved sisters: Ettarre and Dorothy were their names, and

they also suffered for their beauty, and for the desire it quickened in

the hearts of men. Melicent knew only that Perion was in captivity and

might not look for aid from any person living save herself.

She gathered in a blue napkin such emeralds as would ransom a pope. She

cut short her marvellous hair and disguised herself in all things as a

man, and under cover of the ensuing night slipped from the castle. At

Manneville she found a Venetian ship bound homeward with a cargo of

swords and armour.

She hired herself to the captain of this vessel as a servant, calling

herself Jocelin Gaignars. She found no time--wherein to be afraid or to

grieve for the estate she was relinquishing, so long as Perion lay in

danger.

Thus the young Jocelin, though not without hardship and odd by-ends of

adventure here irrelevant, came with time's course into a land of

sunlight and much wickedness where Perion was.

There the boy found in what fashion Perion was living and won the

dearly purchased misery of seeing him, from afar, in his deplorable

condition, as Perion went through the outer yard of Nacumera laden with

chains and carrying great logs toward the kitchen. This befell when

Jocelin had come into the hill country, where the eyrie of Demetrios

blocked a crag-hung valley as snugly as a stone chokes a gutter-pipe.

Young Jocelin had begged an audience of this heathen lord and had

obtained it--though Jocelin did not know as much--with ominous

facility.

7.

_How Perion Was Freed_

Demetrios lay on a divan within the Court of Stars, through which you

passed from the fortress into the Women's Garden and the luxurious

prison where he kept his wives. This court was circular in form and was

paved with red and yellow slabs, laid alternately, like a chess-board.

In the centre was a fountain, which cast up a tall thin jet of water. A

gallery extended around the place, supported by columns that had been

painted scarlet and were gilded with fantastic designs. The walls were

of the colour of claret and were adorned with golden cinquefoils

regularly placed. From a distance they resembled stars, and so gave the

enclosure its name.

Demetrios lay upon a long divan which was covered with crimson, and

which encircled the court entirely, save for the apertures of the two

entrances. Demetrios was of burly person, which he by ordinary, as

to-day, adorned resplendently; of a stature little above the common

size, and disproportionately broad as to his chest and shoulders. It

was rumoured that he could bore an apple through with his forefinger

and had once killed a refractory horse with a blow of his naked fist;

nor looking on the man, did you presume to question the report. His

eyes were large and insolent, coloured like onyxes; for the rest, he

had a handsome surly face which was disfigured by pimples.

He did not speak at all while Jocelin explained that his errand was to

ransom Perion. Then, "At what price?" Demetrios said, without any sign

of interest; and Jocelin, with many encomiums, displayed his emeralds.

"Ay, they are well enough," Demetrios agreed. "But then I have a

superfluity of jewels."

He raised himself a little among the cushions, and in this moving the

figured golden stuff in which he was clothed heaved and glittered like

the scales of a splendid monster. He leisurely unfastened the great

chrysoberyl, big as a hen's egg, which adorned his fillet.

"Look you, this is of a far more beautiful green than any of your

trinkets, I think it is as valuable also, because of its huge size.

Moreover, it turns red by lamplight--red as blood. That is an admirable

colour. And yet I do not value it. I think I do not value anything. So

I will make you a gift of this big coloured pebble, if you desire it,

because your ignorance amuses me. Most people know Demetrios is not a

merchant. He does not buy and sell. That which he has he keeps, and

that which he desires he takes."

The boy was all despair. He did not speak. He was very handsome as he

stood in that still place where everything excepting him was red and

gold.

"You do not value my poor chrysoberyl? You value your friend more? It

is a page out of Theocritos--'when there were golden men of old, when

friends gave love for love.' And yet I could have sworn--Come now, a

wager," purred Demetrios. "Show your contempt of this bauble to be as

great as mine by throwing this shiny pebble, say, into the gallery, for

the next passer-by to pick up, and I will credit your sincerity. Do

that and I will even name my price for Perion."

The boy obeyed him without hesitation. Turning, he saw the horrid

change in the intent eyes of Demetrios, and quailed before it. But

instantly that flare of passion flickered out.

Demetrios gently said:

"A bargain is a bargain. My wives are beautiful, but their caresses

annoy me as much as formerly they pleased me. I have long thought it

would perhaps amuse me if I possessed a Christian wife who had eyes

like violets and hair like gold, and a plump white body. A man tires

very soon of ebony and amber.... Procure me such a wife and I will

willingly release this Perion and all his fellows who are yet alive."

"But, seignior,"--and the boy was shaken now,--"you demand of me an

impossibility!"

"I am so hardy as to think not. And my reason is that a man throws from

the elbow only, but a woman with her whole arm."

There fell a silence now.

"Why, look you, I deal fairly, though. Were such a woman here--

Demetrios of Anatolia's guest--I verily believe I would not hinder her

departure, as I might easily do. For there is not a person within many

miles of this place who considers it wholesome to withstand me. Yet

were this woman purchasable, I would purchase. And--if she refused--I

would not hinder her departure; but very certainly I would put Perion

to the Torment of the Waterdrops. It is so droll to see a man go mad

before your eyes, I think that I would laugh and quite forget the

woman."

She said, "O God, I cry to You for justice!"

He answered:

"My good girl, in Nacumera the wishes of Demetrios are justice. But we

waste time. You desire to purchase one of my belongings? So be it. I

will hear your offer."

Just once her hands had gripped each other. Her arms fell now as if

they had been drained of life. She spoke in a dull voice.

"Seignior, I offer Melicent who was a princess. I cry a price,

seignior, for red lips and bright eyes and a fair woman's tender body

without any blemish. I cry a price for youth and happiness and honour.

These you may have for playthings, seignior, with everything which I

possess, except my heart, for that is dead."

Demetrios asked, "Is this true speech?"

She answered:

"It is as sure as Love and Death. I know that nothing is more sure than

these, and I praise God for my sure knowledge."

He chuckled, saying, "Platitudes break no bones."

So on the next day the chains were filed from Perion de la Forêt and

all his fellows, save the nine unfortunates whom Demetrios had

appointed to fight with lions a month before this, when he had

entertained the Soldan of Bacharia. These men were bathed and perfumed

and richly clad.

A galley of the proconsul's fleet conveyed them toward Christendom and

set the twoscore slaves of yesterday ashore not far from Megaris. The

captain of the galley on departure left with Perion a blue napkin,

wherein were wrapped large emeralds and a bit of parchment.

Upon this parchment was written:

"Not these, but the body of Melicent, who was once a princess,

purchased your bodies. Yet these will buy you ships and men and swords

with which to storm my house where Melicent now is. Come if you will

and fight with Demetrios of Anatolia for that brave girl who loved a

porter as all loyal men should love their Maker and customarily do not.

I think it would amuse us."

Then Perion stood by the languid sea which

severed him from Melicent and cried:

"O God, that hast permitted this hard bargain, trade now with me! now

barter with me, O Father of us all! That which a man has I will give."

Thus he waited in the clear sunlight, with no more wavering in his face

than you may find in the next statue's face. Both hands strained toward

the blue sky, as though he made a vow. If so, he did not break it.

And now no more of Perion.

* * * * *

At the same hour young Melicent, wrapped all about with a

flame-coloured veil and crowned with marjoram, was led by a spruce boy

toward a threshold, over which Demetrios lifted her, while many people

sang in a strange tongue. And then she paid her ransom.

"Hymen, O Hymen!" they sang. "Do thou of many names and many temples,

golden Aphrodite, be propitious to this bridal! Now let him first

compute the glittering stars of midnight and the grasshoppers of a

summer day who would count the joys this bridal shall bring about! Hymen,

O Hymen, rejoice thou in this bridal!"

8.

_How Demetrios Was Amused_

Now Melicent abode in the house of Demetrios, whom she had not seen

since the morning after he had wedded her. A month had passed. As yet

she could not understand the language of her fellow prisoners, but

Halaon, a eunuch who had once served a cardinal in Tuscany, informed

her the proconsul was in the West Provinces, where an invading force

had landed under Ranulph de Meschines.

A month had passed. She woke one night from dreams of Perion--what else

should women dream of?--and found the same Ahasuerus that had brought

her news of Perion's captivity, so long ago, attendant at her bedside.

He seemed a prey to some half-scornful mirth. In speech, at least, the

man was of entire discretion. "The Splendour of the World desires your

presence, madame." Thus the Jew blandly spoke.

She cried, aghast at so much treachery, "You had planned this!"

He answered:

"I plan always. Oh, certainly, I must weave always as the spider

does.... Meanwhile time passes. I, like you, am now the servitor of

Demetrios. I am his factor now at Calonak. I buy and sell. I estimate

ounces. I earn my wages. Who forbids it?" Here the Jew shrugged. "And

to conclude, the Splendour of the World desires your presence, madame."

He seemed to get much joy of this mouth-filling periphrasis as

sneeringly he spoke of their common master.

* * * * *

Now Melicent, in a loose robe of green Coan stuff shot through and

through with a radiancy like that of copper, followed the thin, smiling

Jew Ahasuerus. She came thus with bare feet into the Court of Stars,

where the proconsul lay on the divan as though he had not ever moved

from there. To-night he was clothed in scarlet, and barbaric ornaments

dangled from his pierced ears. These glittered now that his head moved

a little as he silently dismissed Ahasuerus from the Court of Stars.

Real stars were overhead, so brilliant and (it seemed) so near they

turned the fountain's jet into a spurt of melting silver. The moon was

set, but there was a flaring lamp of iron, high as a man's shoulder,

yonder where Demetrios lay.

"Stand close to it, my wife," said the proconsul, "in order that I may

see my newest purchase very clearly."

She obeyed him; and she esteemed the sacrifice, however unendurable,

which bought for Perion the chance to serve God and his love for her by

valorous and commendable actions to be no cause for grief.

"I think with those old men who sat upon the walls of Troy," Demetrios

said, and he laughed because his voice had shaken a little. "Meanwhile

I have returned from crucifying a hundred of your fellow worshippers,"

Demetrios continued. His speech had an odd sweetness. "Ey, yes, I

conquered at Yroga. It was a good fight. My horse's hoofs were red at

its conclusion. My surviving opponents I consider to have been

deplorable fools when they surrendered, for people die less painfully

in battle. There was one fellow, a Franciscan monk, who hung six hours

upon a palm tree, always turning his head from one side to the other.

It was amusing."

She answered nothing.

"And I was wondering always how I would feel were you nailed in his

place. It was curious I should have thought of you.... But your white

flesh is like the petals of a flower. I suppose it is as readily

destructible. I think you would not long endure."

"I pray God hourly that I may not!" said tense Melicent.

He was pleased to have wrung one cry of anguish from this lovely

effigy. He motioned her to him and laid one hand upon her naked breast.

He gave a gesture of distaste.

Demetrios said:

"No, you are not afraid. However, you are very beautiful. I thought

that you would please me more when your gold hair had grown a trifle

longer. There is nothing in the world so beautiful as golden hair. Its

beauty weathers even the commendation of poets."

No power of motion seemed to be in this white girl, but certainly you

could detect no fear. Her clinging robe shone like an opal in the

lamplight, her body, only partly veiled, was enticing, and her visage

was very lovely. Her wide-open eyes implored you, but only as those of

a trapped animal beseech the mercy for which it does not really hope.

Thus Melicent waited in the clear lamplight, with no more wavering in

her face than you may find in the next statue's face.

In the man's heart woke now some comprehension of the nature of her

love for Perion, of that high and alien madness which dared to make of

Demetrios of Anatolia's will an unavoidable discomfort, and no more.

The prospect was alluring. The proconsul began to chuckle as water

pours from a jar, and the gold in his ears twinkled.

"Decidedly I shall get much mirth of you. Go back to your own rooms. I

had thought the world afforded no adversary and no game worthy of

Demetrios. I have found both. Therefore, go back to your own rooms," he

gently said.

9.

_How Time Sped in Heathenry_

On the next day Melicent was removed to more magnificent apartments,

and she was lodged in a lofty and spacious pavilion, which had three

porticoes builded of marble and carved teakwood and Andalusian copper.

Her rooms were spread with gold-worked carpets and hung with tapestries

and brocaded silks figured with all manner of beasts and birds in their

proper colours. Such was the girl's home now, where only happiness was

denied to her. Many slaves attended Melicent, and she lacked for

nothing in luxury and riches and things of price; and thereafter she

abode at Nacumera, to all appearances, as the favourite among the

proconsul's wives.

It must be recorded of Demetrios that henceforth he scrupulously

demurred even to touch her. "I have purchased your body," he proudly

said, "and I have taken seizin. I find I do not care for anything which

can be purchased."

It may be that the man was never sane; it is indisputable that the

mainspring of his least action was an inordinate pride. Here he had

stumbled upon something which made of Demetrios of Anatolia a temporary

discomfort, and which bedwarfed the utmost reach of his ill-doing into

equality with the molestations of a house-fly; and perception of this

fact worked in Demetrios like a poisonous ferment. To beg or once again

to pillage he thought equally unworthy of himself. "Let us have

patience!" It was not easily said so long as this fair Frankish woman

dared to entertain a passion which Demetrios could not comprehend, and

of which Demetrios was, and knew himself to be, incapable.

A connoisseur of passions, he resented such belittlement tempestuously;

and he heaped every luxury upon Melicent, because, as he assured

himself, the heart of every woman is alike.

He had his theories, his cunning, and, chief of all, an appreciation of

her beauty, as his abettors. She had her memories and her clean heart.

They duelled thus accoutred.

Meanwhile his other wives peered from screened alcoves at these two and

duly hated Melicent. Upon no less than three occasions did Callistion--

the first wife of the proconsul and the mother of his elder son--

attempt the life of Melicent; and thrice Demetrios spared the woman at

Melicent's entreaty. For Melicent (since she loved Perion) could

understand that it was love of Demetrios, rather than hate of her,

which drove the Dacian virago to extremities.

Then one day about noon Demetrios came unheralded into Melicent's

resplendent prison. Through an aisle of painted pillars he came to her,

striding with unwonted quickness, glittering as he moved. His robe this

day was scarlet, the colour he chiefly affected. Gold glowed upon his

forehead, gold dangled from his ears, and about his throat was a broad

collar of gold and rubies. At his side was a cross-handled sword, in a

scabbard of blue leather, curiously ornamented.

"Give thanks, my wife," Demetrios said, "that you are beautiful. For

beauty was ever the spur of valour." Then quickly, joyously, he told

her of how a fleet equipped by the King of Cyprus had been despatched

against the province of Demetrios, and of how among the invaders were

Perion of the Forest and his Free Companions. "Ey, yes, my porter has

returned. I ride instantly for the coast to greet him with appropriate

welcome. I pray heaven it is no sluggard or weakling that is come out

against me."

Proudly, Melicent replied:

"There comes against you a champion of noted deeds, a courteous and

hardy gentleman, pre-eminent at swordplay. There was never any man more

ready than Perion to break a lance or shatter a shield, or more eager

to succour the helpless and put to shame all cowards and traitors."

Demetrios dryly said:

"I do not question that the virtues of my porter are innumerable.

Therefore we will not attempt to catalogue them. Now Ahasuerus reports

that even before you came to tempt me with your paltry emeralds you

once held the life of Perion in your hands?" Demetrios unfastened his

sword. He grasped the hand of Melicent, and laid it upon the scabbard.

"And what do you hold now, my wife? You hold the death of Perion. I

take the antithesis to be neat."

She answered nothing. Her seeming indifference angered him. Demetrios

wrenched the sword from its scabbard, with a hard violence that made

Melicent recoil. He showed the blade all covered with graved symbols of

which she could make nothing.

"This is Flamberge," said the proconsul; "the weapon which was the

pride and bane of my father, famed Miramon Lluagor, because it was the

sword which Galas made, in the old time's heyday, for unconquerable

Charlemagne. Clerks declare it is a magic weapon and that the man who

wields it is always unconquerable. I do not know. I think it is as

difficult to believe in sorcery as it is to be entirely sure that all

we know is not the sorcery of a drunken wizard. I very potently

believe, however, that with this sword I shall kill Perion."

Melicent had plenty of patience, but astonishingly little, it seemed,

for this sort of speech. "I think that you talk foolishly, seignior.

And, other matters apart, it is manifest that you yourself concede

Perion to be the better swordsman, since you require to be abetted by

sorcery before you dare to face him."

"So, so!" Demetrios said, in a sort of grinding whisper, "you think

that I am not the equal of this long-legged fellow! You would think

otherwise if I had him here. You will think otherwise when I have

killed him with my naked hands. Oh, very soon you will think

otherwise."

He snarled, rage choking him, flung the sword at her feet and quitted

her without any leave-taking. He had ridden three miles from Nacumera

before he began to laugh. He perceived that Melicent at least respected

sorcery, and had tricked him out of Flamberge by playing upon his

tetchy vanity. Her adroitness pleased him.

Demetrios did not laugh when he found the Christian fleet had been

ingloriously repulsed at sea by the Emir of Arsuf, and had never

effected a landing. Demetrios picked a quarrel with the victorious

admiral and killed the marplot in a public duel, but that was

inadequate comfort.

"However," the proconsul reassured himself, "if my wife reports at all

truthfully as to this Perion's nature it is certain that this Perion

will come again." Then Demetrios went into the sacred grove upon the

hillsides south of Quesiton and made an offering of myrtle-branches,

rose-leaves and incense to Aphrodite of Colias.

10.

_How Demetrios Wooed_

Ahasuerus came and went at will. Nothing was known concerning this

soft-treading furtive man except by the proconsul, who had no

confidants. By his decree Ahasuerus was an honoured guest at Nacumera.

And always the Jew's eyes when Melicent was near him were as

expressionless as the eyes of a snake, which do not ever change.

Once she told Demetrios that she feared Ahasuerus.

"But I do not fear him, Melicent, though I have larger reason. For I

alone of all men living know the truth concerning this same Jew.

Therefore, it amuses me to think that he, who served my wizard father

in a very different fashion, is to-day my factor and ciphers over my

accounts."

Demetrios laughed, and had the Jew summoned.

This was in the Women's Garden, where the proconsul sat with Melicent

in a little domed pavilion of stone-work which was gilded with red gold

and crowned with a cupola of alabaster. Its pavement was of transparent

glass, under which were clear running waters wherein swam red and

yellow fish.

Demetrios said:

"It appears that you are a formidable person, Ahasuerus. My wife here

fears you."

"Splendour of the Age," returned Ahasuerus, quietly, "it is notorious

that women have long hair and short wits. There is no need to fear a

Jew. The Jew, I take it, was created in order that children might

evince their playfulness by stoning him, the honest show their

common-sense by robbing him, and the religious display their piety by

burning him. Who forbids it?"

"Ey, but my wife is a Christian and in consequence worships a Jew."

Demetrios reflected. His dark eyes twinkled. "What is your opinion

concerning this other Jew, Ahasuerus?"

"I know that He was the Messiah, Lord."

"And yet you do not worship Him."

The Jew said:

"It was not altogether worship He desired. He asked that men should

love Him. He does not ask love of me."

"I find that an obscure saying," Demetrios considered.

"It is a true saying, King of Kings. In time it will be made plain.

That time is not yet come. I used to pray it would come soon. Now I do

not pray any longer. I only wait."

Demetrios tugged at his chin, his eyes narrowed, meditating. He

laughed.

Demetrios said:

Domnei: A Comedy of Woman-Worship · 第 2 / 8 段